


Fear

by SweetnessEverglory



Category: IT (1990), IT (2017), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Cannibalism, Character Death, Deadlights (IT), Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Happy Ending, First Kiss, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Memories, Mpreg, One Big Happy Family, Overstimulation, Period-Typical Homophobia, Restraints, Rimming, Sad with a Happy Ending, Survivor Guilt, Tentacle Rape, Tentacle Sex, Underage Sex, Unrealistic Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2020-07-23 22:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 123,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetnessEverglory/pseuds/SweetnessEverglory
Summary: The Losers took Pennywise's deal, leaving to live happy lives until old age took them back to the weeds. Bill was left alone with the clown that killed his brother, but instead of killing Bill like Georgie and all the other kids in Derry, the clown does something else entirely, something that makes Bill wish the clown had killed him instead





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \- So I have had this idea bubbling in my head for a while... forget where it came from exactly but... meh. And me being me, I looked it up to see if there were any other good fics for this and I have found zero that includes Bill still being a minor... that probably makes it way worse but I already did that story with Bruce so it's not that much different, and if you read the book then you know all the boys slept with Beverly when they were still kids so... Yeah  
> \- I just wanted to write this before the second movie came out, so I hope it's good  
> \- Also, Bill Skarsgard would make an excellent Joker, I think(someone made fanart for it and Skarsgard as the Joker looked really good)  
> \- Mind the warnings and the tags, if this isn't your cup of tea, get lost. If it is, I hope you enjoy it  
> \- Sort of a book reference at the end

It was Bill's fault and Bill knew that, so he couldn't blame Stan for being the first to take the clown's offer to let the six of them go as long as he took Bill and they would be left alone and live happy lives. Richie, looking unsure and guilty, had followed Stan. Then Mike, who took the gun back. Then Ben, who urged Beverly to follow him. Then Eddie, who was more reluctant. And then last, but never the least, Beverly, who looked the most guilty and unsure of herself, but she had left too and that actually made Bill feel more relieved. He wasn't the reason they were going to die. He hadn't gotten them killed just like... Georgie.

"Just you and me now, Billy boy," the clown giggled in his ear.

Bill was silent, he knew what was coming. He'd be with Georgie again... that was all that mattered. Maybe somehow, someway, Georgie would forgive him for being the reason he'd gotten taken by the clown in the first place. Bill knew he was gone. They hadn't found him and the yellow of Georgie's slicker, even bloodied and dirtied as it was, wasn't hard to miss on the pile of broken toys and mangled body parts that It had collected from the missing kids over the summer and even over the years. He'd seen Georgie in the basement, even if it was a trick from the clown, a rotting corpse used as a puppet by the clown and even when he'd put that bullet in the fake Georgie's head... he'd known, finally, that it was pointless to keep thinking Georgie was alive.

Bill gasped when the clown lifted him up, white-gloved hands around Bill's neck but not strangling him. The clown was grinning, lips curved upwards and teeth bared. Bill's hands grabbed onto the clown's wrists in a futile attempt to wrench himself free, but It was inhumanly strong. Stronger than Bill. As it always had been. Bill had seen that It had been afraid when they were in Neibolt and the seven of them were against It, but now Bill was alone.

"G-g-get it o-over w-w-with," Bill stuttered out, unafraid.

The clown's grin disappeared immediately, replaced with a small frown and It pulled him close, nose into Bill's neck and Bill stilled as it began sniffing him. It jerked Its head back, now scowling, as It glared at the teen, angry yellow eyes turning dangerously red.

"I-I-I'm n-n-not afraid of y-y-you," Bill stuttered out, knowing it was true.

He wasn't afraid of the clown. He knew what was coming and he'd accepted that. The clown's scowl deepened, making it look more menacing than when it was smiling.

"You will be," the clown growled, promising.

It pulled Its head back and Bill watched, eyes wide, as It peeled Its own face upwards, mouth opening wide unnaturally, revealing little sharp teeth, and three little balls of light swirled inside the monster's mouth and Bill was unable to look away, eyes glazing over to a pale blue as he looked into Its deadlights and he could feel himself floating like a balloon. Just floating, floating up, and floating away...

**********

A child's fear was always much purer than the fear of an adult, that's why it always tasted so much better. Children had always tasted better, especially when they were afraid. Over the centuries, It had found adults to be like cattle, easy prey and easily manipulated. Children, certain ones, were more easily lured in, but their fear was always the better meal. When they weren't afraid, they just tasted like adults. Bitter. It was why It hadn't killed the girl, Beverly Marsh. She hadn't been afraid of It like It wanted. To make matters worse, she was no longer afraid of her father... He could see it. He could see it in all of them. Ben's mummy, Mike's burning parents, Eddie's leper, Stan's demonic woman, and Richie, ironically, was afraid of the very thing It used to lure children in. Clowns. Even Beverly, at one point, had been afraid of her father. That was gone now, unfortunately.

Billy boy, however, wasn't afraid of anything, except not finding Georgie. Georgie... it was real enough for Georgie, who had been terrified that Billy would be angry at him for losing the boat the very first time he took it out. It couldn't help Itself. It grinned at the memory as it tapped his fingers on Its chin, watching the brat float just as Beverly had. Like a fly caught in a spider's web, quite literally in this sense. Billy was in Its deadlights.

However, the brat wasn't afraid of him. He had finally accepted, after nearly getting himself and his little friends killed, twice, that Georgie was gone and gone for good. Now he feared nothing, not even death. So what was he supposed to do now? It would be satisfying to kill the brat, considering that he was the little leader of their gang of losers and stronger than all of them, yet still so weak when alone, but that wasn't what It wanted. It would be too easy. Too easy meant no fun. It could taunt him with Georgie's death some more, but Bill had realized that the one-armed Georgie with the boat had just been another one of Its tricks, just as he had in Neibolt. Why wasn't the brat afraid of him?

It could take the shape of every man, woman, and child's worst nightmares, warp reality to fit Its desire, and easily manipulate adults. Manipulate them so much that they hardly cared, or even noticed, when a child went missing. Betty Ripsom was forgotten, Patrick Hockstetter was forgotten, Ed Corcoran was forgotten... Nobody would really miss Butch or Henry Bowers, let alone Belch Higgins and Victor Criss. Even when Ben was being bullied, surrounded by boys much bigger than he was, the people had just driven by, one of Its balloons in the back of their car.

If Billy was going to be Its last meal before it went to sleep for another twenty-seven years, It wanted to enjoy it. At the same time, It wanted Billy to suffer. It had actually been afraid of the seven brats in Neibolt and It wanted Billy to pay for that.

But how was It going to do that? The brat wasn't afraid to die, and taunting him with Georgie's death seemed rather bland now. Flavorless. At the same time, however, inside of the brat lurked a special little flavor that It wanted to taste, but it wouldn't come up if the brat wasn't afraid. How would It make him afraid? How could It? Taunt him with the Losers? Beverly?

It looked into Billy and saw that he had harbored a childish crush on her, just as Ben did. With Bill out of the picture, maybe Ben would have her. More little brats to run around...

It stared into Billy. There was something every boy was afraid of... every boy. Especially one at the peak of becoming a teenager, and then an adult... It grinned, face stretching and revealing pointed teeth that promised death. Patrick Hockstetter hadn't been afraid of getting caught after toying with Henry Bowers... who _had_ been afraid of his father finding out... Billy would be no different, would he? He liked girls, didn't he? He liked Beverly... would Bowers be fitting for this? Maybe... maybe not... It doubts Bill could handle seeing Its true form and considers just staying as the clown... or... something else entirely. Who knows? All It knows is that It is going to make Billy wish he'd never made that stupid boat. Make him wish he'd never challenged It. Make him wish he'd never met his little gang of Losers. The grin on Its face grew. It had always seen how the surviving children he never got a hold of grew and how they made new ones... They found it an enjoyable pastime, even when not actually trying to procreate... It couldn't very well do that with Billy, but he could certainly... play with him. Playing with food was just as nice as eating it, after all... It would definitely savor the flavor.

**********

Bill feels that familiar creep up his spine as he finds himself waking up and his mind and body quickly catch up with each other as his memories come flooding back to him. Neibolt... his friends... Beverly... Georgie... It... his friends taking It's deal... leaving... the deadlights. He remembers the deadlights. He was floating, but in a void that was akin to nothingness. Like he wasn't even there, but he was sure he felt his friends with him. Eddie, Richie, Stan, Ben, Mike, Beverly... he was even sure he felt Georgie with him, but now they're all gone. All of them. He's back in the sewer with its putrid smell of Derry's sewage along with the rancid smell of rotting corpses. He's lying on the pile of broken, bloodied, and dirtied toys, on top of Georgie's slicker... he feels his eyes sting as they fill with tears, his hand taking Georgie's slicker and holding it, clutching it to his chest.

"Not crying already, Billy? The fun hasn't even started," the clown asks him and Bill sees It standing in front of him, no... looming over him.

Its eyes are blue, as though welcoming. Really blue. Not at all an ominous yellow or a lethal red.

"W-w-what are y-y-you w-waiting f-for?" Bill asks It, defiant.

It grins at him, lip still pulled out and down, eyes still looking in two different directions, as it morphs into something else, right before his very eyes. Bill jumps back, now Beverly is standing before him. Red hair, kind eyes, painted lips that were smiling.

"Y-you're n-not... B-B-B-" Bill struggles on her name.

"Buh-Buh-Buh-Beverly," It taunts him with Beverly's voice. "Aren't I, Bill?" It as Beverly asks him as It approaches him.

Beverly, really It, walks towards him in careful strides. Like a predatory approaching its prey and it lacks Beverly's somewhat shy but kind and welcoming demeanor.

"G-g-gonna t-taunt m-me w-w-with my f-f-friends n-n-now?" Bill snaps, talking bravely but inside he's unsure of what the clown has planned and internally wonders why It hasn't killed him yet. It killed Georgie and all those other kids... was this just payback? "C-can't y-you do b-better?" Bill spits bitterly.

Beverly's face contorts into a small scowl before It grins again but this time it has a look of knowing. It knew something Bill didn't. It, as Beverly, gets on Its knees, clothes getting dirtied with sewer water, as It smiles at him, leaning in close.

"W-what are--" Bill starts but Beverly( _It's not Beverly_ , his mind uselessly reminds him) leans in close and presses her face close to his neck, breath ghosting over his skin, erupting goosebumps up and down his arms and sending a chill down his spine.

"Don't you want me, Bill?" Beverly asks and Bill jerks away when he feels her-- _It's_ hand on his knee.

"You're not Beverly!" Bill shouts, the sound echoing in the sewer and down the tunnels.

He wonders if his friends could hear him, or if they were already gone... He really wouldn't blame them, but some selfish part of him wants them to come back... to help him kill the clown once and for all...

She just smiles at him, colored lips curving upwards as her eyes gleam blue. It's a predatory smile that doesn't fit Beverly at all.

"Don't you want me?" Beverly repeats, tone coy.

"N-no," Bill says instantly and Beverly frowns.

"Do you want... me then?" Beverly asks and with that, Beverly morphs into Eddie, but without the cast that has the word Loser written on it, a red V drawn on the S in an attempt to say Lover instead of Loser.

"No," Bill says, confused and... _concerned_.

Not scared, but concerned. Eddie scowls at him and Bill feels somewhat triumphant before Eddie morphs into Henry Bowers, mullet and all.

"Loser," Bowers says as he shoves Bill down.

"Y-you suck, B-Bowers!" Bill yells angrily.

He knows really that Henry Bowers is probably dead, like everyone else except Bill that's in this shithole of a sewer, Mike having shoved him down the well in an effort to defend himself, and Bowers had hit the side of the wall, startling even Richie. There was no way he was still alive. So why was the clown taunting him with his school bully?

"Scared yet, Billy?" Bowers asks him, but with the clown's voice and Bower's eyes go from blue to that ominous yellow that only It has.

"No," Bill spits firmly, believing it himself. He's not scared of Bowers anymore and he's not scared of It.

Bowers just grins at him as he looms over him, grinning ear to ear just like the clown.

"You will be," It promises him as it morphs again, this time taking the form of someone Bill didn't know.

It was a man this time and even though he's still on his knees, Bill can see he'd be as tall as the clown. Over six feet. The man has bluish-green eyes and dark brown hair with a defined, handsome face. He was wearing the clown's outfit again, bells jingling slightly.

"W-what the f-fuck are you w-waiting for? K-kill me already," Bill stutters out, unsure of where this is going but the man just grins at him.

"Maybe later, Billy boy," he says with a rather deep voice.

He looms over Bill and within a second, has Bill's ankle in his hand and is yanking him back towards him. Bill looks up, seeing the man's eyes go from bluish-green to really blue and then back to ominous, dangerous yellow.

"We're going to have a lot of fun, Billy boy," the man promises and for the first time that entire day, Bill feels it.

Bill is _afraid_.

The man inhales and looks as though he's just smelled something delicious, like the smell of a really good meal. Bill thinks of the ones that his mom used to make before Georgie disappeared... he tries not to be afraid but he doesn't know what It is planning, so it's hard not to be afraid.

"That's right, Billy. Be afraid. Be _very_ afraid," It growls out, voice almost guttural, and Bill feels it in the very pit of his gut.

That feeling of dread, a coldness washing over him. Fear. The man, It, grins, ear to ear, mouth stretching, teeth sharp and pointed, razor-sharp, looming over him.

"F-fuh-fuck y-you!" Bill shouts and It just chuckles.

"That's the sort of the plan, Billy," It says and Bill stills, confused and scared.

_What?_

"W-what?" Bill stutters, not even from his actual stutter but quite possibly from fear.

It washes over him, that fear, soaking him like a downpour of rain and It sighs as it inhales, tongue flicking out and licking Its lips.

"Delicious," It purrs.

"G-get away f-from m-me! Y-you f-fucking f-freak!" Bill shouts, trying to scramble away but It slams Its gloved hands down on either side of Bill's head, cracking the floor and Bill stills.

"Keep panicking, Billy. I love it," It purrs.

Bill is shaking with actual fear. There's no righteous fury burning inside of him in the hope of finding his brother or even avenging his untimely death. He's scared. Not of Henry Bowers. Not of never finding Georgie. He's scared of what It's going to do to him. He's scared of _It_.

"Atta boy, Billy. Always knew you had it in you," It chuckles, pleased.

"Just get it over with!" Bill yells, not even stuttering.

"Mm," It murmurs, lowering its head down to Bill's, tongue flicking out and licking a strip along Bill's cheek, _tasting_ him. "No," It says simply.

It's not going to eat him. It's going to toy with him... maybe It doesn't even really mean what It's suggesting... maybe it's just another one of Its games...

"What would your parents say if they saw you now, Billy?" It asks and Bill stares at It, well... at this moment, him.

His parents? They wouldn't even know this was happening? Would they? Would they even care that Bill would be another kid on a missing poster? He was always the stuttering freak at school since his accident and losing Georgie cut something deep in his family. His mom had blatantly ignored him and his dad was easily angry with him now. They probably blamed him... because of the boat. What would they say if they saw him? They'd see that it was It... wouldn't they? Though subconsciously, Bill wishes that instead of Georgie, it had been him. He would've preferred everyone alive, but if it came down to it... he'd trade himself for Georgie in a heartbeat. He just didn't understand what It meant. If they saw him now, maybe his dad would try to save him?

"No, Billy... what would they say if they saw you, like this, with say... Eddie?" It asks and Bill stares at him.

Bill thinks of his father... then Bowers... " _Faggot_..." rings in his ears even though Patrick Hockstetter was the one that had made that tongue gesture at them in the hallway on the last day of school... A sick realization punches him in the gut, worse than anything Bowers had ever given him before...

"Get off!" Bill shouts, that fear stabbing deep into his chest which tightens. His heart races, pounding against his ribcage, and his blood seems to turn into ice.

"Yes! There it is!" It says happily as It leans down, nose pressing against Bill's neck and inhaling deeply, puffing out a heavy breath and a husky chuckle. "Keep going," It purrs.

"F-fuck off!" Bill shouts, trying to scramble away but a gloved hand grabs him by the hair and yanks, hard, slamming his head onto the yet concrete under him and Bill's head flares with a familiar pain as he almost blacks out, stars and darkness dancing in his eyes.

"G-get off!" Bill cries out as It leaned down, that handsome face hovering inches above Bill's.

"When you're screaming, call me Robert," It grins at him as a long, prehensile, definitely inhuman tongue slithers out of his mouth and wiggles in front of Bill's eyes before it was touching his cheek again.

It was slippery and wet, like all tongues, but wiggled around as though it was a live thing and had a mind of its own. It wasn't forked like a snake's, but it was pointed. It ran along Bill's cheek, wetting it, and trailed down his jaw and down his neck, tasting the salt of Bill's skin.

"S-stop," Bill stuttered out, twitching and trembling with fear.

"S-stop," It repeated mockingly.

One of Its hands, Robert's hands, moved from its spot beside Bill's head and Bill jumped when he felt it on his belly, toying with his shirt.

"D-don't," Bill whimpered out.

"D-don't," It, Robert, mocked him as the hand pulled Bill's shirt up, revealing his belly.

Bill tried to move away but the other hand still had a tight hold on his hair, a painful hold. A gloved hand rested on his belly, fingers splayed over the skin.

"You'd look delicious all over the place... your insides on the outside..." Robert muttered and Bill would've preferred that. "But this isn't a sandwich," Robert says, looking at Bill and grinning that same creepy smile but without the white face paint and the red markings on his cheeks and eyes. "This is going to be an art form..." Robert murmurs, prehensile tongue flicking back out.

"C-crazy f-f-fuh-fucker," Bill stutters and Robert just chuckles mockingly.

Bill whimpered as the hand pulled his shirt further up, revealing his stomach and chest. Out of all the ways to torture him... get payback for Neibolt... this was how It was going to do it? Show Its dominance like some Alpha dog or even Bowers if he was gay?

Bill thought of his parents... they would probably be disgusted with him. Resent him more than they already probably did. Georgie... if Georgie saw him now... Georgie wouldn't understand... but he'd see that Bill was weak... that he couldn't fight back... Georgie would see what a loser Bill Denbrough really was and how shitty he was as a brother. Bowers would call him a faggot, along with Belch Higgins and Victor Criss... Patrick Hockstetter... all of them. His friends... they'd be so disgusted... but it was the clown... not Bill.

"But you told them to go, Billy," Robert reminded him.

"I didn't know you'd do _this_!" Bill spits, not stuttering.

Robert just grinned at him.

"Neither did I," Robert said truthfully.

His friends... in this situation... they'd understand that it was the clown... that it was all Its fault... not Bill's. But... if they otherwise thought Bill was gay... Richie in a singsong voice, one Bill could easily picture even now, "Gaaay!" and Ben... he didn't know Ben that well but figured Ben would be just as disgusted... Stan's religion was against gay people... or his dad and church just were, Bill wasn't sure... Eddie would go on a rant about how being gay made you dirty and posed a lot of risks for things like AIDS and HIV... Mike... Bill honestly didn't know... Beverly... she'd be so disgusted... revolted...

Bill yelped and jerked in Robert's grip when he felt that tongue slither over his nipple, wetting it. Teasing it.

"S-stop!" Bill cried out and Robert just chuckled as he lowered his head to Bill's chest, tasting the flesh there, teasing the sensitive bud. "S-stop," Bill repeated, over and over as he felt something new, something... not bad but coming from It... it couldn't be good at all. It felt... _good_.

Richie said something stupid, well he said a lot of stupid things, but on that last day of school... Do _that_ for the first time... Bill hadn't even done _that_... but he could feel heat pooling in the pit of his belly, stirring in his nether regions... Bill kicked at Robert, trying to shove him away but the hand gripping his hair let go, only to grab his wrists in a grip stronger than iron and definitely painful. Bill whimpered with pain, positive his wrists were going to bruise if the bones didn't just break completely, and his hands were held above his head.

"P-please... s-st-stop," Bill begged and Robert made a purring sound.

"I like it when you beg," Robert said, giving Bill momentarily relief from the strange feeling. "Keep at it, Billy boy," he murmured before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud and Bill's hips jerked upwards, groin brushing against Robert's, which felt hard...

"Please! Please stop!" Bill begged, some part of him hoping it would make him stop but it didn't. If anything, it made him more eager.

Warm wetness enveloped that sensitive bud and a strange sort of pleasurable feeling was running through Bill's body, his cock suddenly twitching in his jeans. Why was he feeling like this? This was... disgusting! It was a monster that ate children! Not Beverly! Not even Eddie or fucking Bowers! It was a monster, not a person. Bill cried out with pain when he felt teeth, sharp ones, bite down on his sensitive bud and his eyes stung as he began to cry, salty tears sliding across his temples.

"Atta boy, Billy," Robert muttered as he pressed a kiss to the aching nipple and proceeded to give the other one the same treatment.

Short, raspy gasps escaped Bill's lips as Robert licked, toyed, nibbled, and teased the sensitive spot, more than the first one, and he arched into the touch when he felt gloved fingers pinch at the nipple that wasn't in the monster's mouth, being sucked at like the nipple of a bottle.

"S-stop... p-puh-puh--" Bill stuttered out, cock throbbing in his jeans, pressing against them painfully.

His jeans were constricting... it hurt and Bill just wanted too... he tried to think of Beverly... trying to think of it as her doing these things instead of this monster... even if it was weird... Sharp teeth dug into his nipple and he cried out with pain but also with pleasure. It felt strangely good... as though Bill was getting _pleasure from the pain_. It wasn't Beverly. It was Robert. The clown. It.

With that thought in his mind, Bill came, a high-pitched, strung out moan escaping him and he felt himself spurting in his jeans, soiling his underwear. The orgasm rippling through him and shaking him to his core. A thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, staining his clothes. Staining him. He felt spent, as though he'd just run a marathon... his chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath... his underwear sticking to him and it felt warm and sticky and gross. Short, raspy breathes escaped him.

"That was a lot," Robert chuckled as he pulled away from Bill's swollen, abused nipples, that tongue licking over Bill's neck, trailing along the column of his throat, tracing his still racing heartbeat and enjoying the flavor of Bill's skin. He even licked away Bill's tears.

"Puh-puh-please... just... k-kill me..." Bill begged and Robert grinned at him, sharklike and deadly, snakelike and calculating. Predatory.

"Maybe later," Robert said and Bill hoped, maybe even prayed, he would. " _Or_ \--" he said in the same tone as when he offered Bill's friends his deal, Bill in exchange for their freedom. "--I could keep you around," he said, running his gloved fingers over Bill's jawline.

"Please... kill me..." Bill begged, wanting nothing more than to be with Georgie instead of this monster.

Robert just smiled at him, tauntingly, as he lowered his face down to Bill's, breath ghosting over Bill's cheeks and taking the teen's face into his hand and holding him still and Bill jerked when he felt lips against his own. He cried out but the sound seemed to be swallowed by Robert's lips as he quickly forced his tongue into Bill's mouth, the wet appendage poking and wetting Bill's lips and exploring the moist cavern. Bill tried to bite it but it didn't seem to matter, either It was now immune to pain or didn't care or even worse... was getting off on it. Getting off on the pain. Bill whimpered into the kiss, the sound swallowed by It, and he thought of Beverly. They had kissed in the school play, and Beverly had said it was a nice kiss... but it wasn't really a real one... There was apparently some rule that it had to be longer than a minute... and it had just been for a stupid play... The monster... It had stolen his brother, and now him... and now his first kiss... Bill cried harder when he realized that was what It wanted. To take everything. His family, done, him, done, his friends were gone from him, his first kiss, now done, and at the end of this... his _virginity_... That alone made him more afraid than he had ever been before. Fear plunged into him, like knives piercing him in his heart and his gut.

"Good boy, Billy," Robert purred after he pulled away, a thin trail of saliva between their lips.

"Please... don't do this..." Bill begged and Robert just hushed him as he began licking away the tears, clearly enjoying the salty flavor.

Bill whimpered, still crying, as he felt the hand that wasn't holding his own down undo the button of his jeans and pull down the zipper. His pants quickly torn from his person, the sound of fabric tearing intensified, and it hurt him for a moment, startling him, and Bill was shaking with silent sobs, tears streaming from his eyes. That left him in his shirt, which was still bundled above his chest, his boxers, his socks, and his shoes.

"Like a virgin sacrifice, eh, Billy?" Robert asked him, grinning and enjoying himself.

"Classics are always goodies... aren't they?" Robert asked as he took hold of Bill's boxers and began pulling them down.

Bill tried to close his legs and Robert sighed, shaking his head, as though Bill was a child misbehaving.

"Silly Billy, you can't keep me away forever," Robert said as he let go of Bill's wrists. "Try and hit me, and I'll bite that arm clean off... I've done it already," Robert said, grinning knowingly and Bill stilled as he thought about what that meant... that's what he'd done to Georgie... wasn't it...?

The old lady said she'd seen Georgie at the storm drain... the overflowing rainwater filled with blood... and Georgie hadn't had his arm... It had bitten it off... and dragged him into the sewer... Bill tried instead to kick at Its face and was backhanded as a result, his face snapping to the side and his cheek hitting the floor, his entire face erupting in pain and he barely registered how the wet concrete scratched his cheek.

"Naughty, naughty, Billy," Robert taunted as he gripped Bill's boxers and yanked them down Bill's legs, leaving them at his ankles and Bill felt the cold damp ground on his bottom.

Bill tried to close his legs, hands trying to cover his privates, and Robert just clucked his tongue in a chastising manner.

"Fuh-fucking stop!" Bill shouted and Robert looked away for a moment, eyes going to something beside Bill.

Bill, against better judgment, looked and saw that it was Georgie's slicker... realizing he'd let it go when It had approached him...

"Fitting, isn't it?" Robert asked as he reached over and grabbed the slicker.

"What're you-- D-don't you fuh-fucking d-dare!" Bill shouted and he tried to get away but It was faster.

Robert took Georgie's slicker and tore the sleeve off with his mouth and used it to tie Bill's wrists together, keeping them above his head.

"You fuh-fucker!" Bill cried and Robert just hummed.

"Sticks and stones break _human_ bones, Billy, but words just piss _me_ off more," Robert said carelessly as he placed his gloved hands on Bill's legs, trailing down to Bill's inner thighs and he spread Bill's legs apart and Bill's face turned hot with embarrassment, turning redder than his hair, as Robert's eyes raked over his body. "Mm... rather small, aren't you?" Robert asked. "Average for a teenage boy... I suppose..." Robert said teasingly.

"Fuh-fuck you!" Bill snapped, face an angry red and shame pooling in his insides along with anger and fear, all three churning in the pit of his stomach.

"Correction, Billy boy. _I'll_ be fucking _you_ ," Robert said and he cackled with amusement at the stricken look on Bill's face.

Robert's tongue, long and prehensile, came back out to play and licked at Bill's pelvic area. Licking at Bill's release that stuck to his skin, soiling it. His thighs were held apart by Robert's gloved hands, their grip painful and bruising. It licked at Bill's release, tasting it... savoring it in his mouth, and swallowing it. Bill watched, scared, surprised, disgusted, and... intrigued as Robert licked up every bit of it, swallowing it all. Bill's thighs quivered in Robert's grip as his legs trembled and shook when he felt that wet tongue purposefully probe at his cock, but it was more like Robert was cleaning him. At the moment at least...

"Delicious," Robert purred after it was all gone.

"Sick fuh-fucker," Bill murmured.

Robert didn't respond, instead silently taking Bill's cock into his hand and Bill wanted more than anything to kick at him, but the grip on his cock turned tight and painful and was a promise more than a threat.

"Good boy, Billy," Robert said, looking quite pleased and Bill hated him.

He hated him more than Belch Higgins and Victor Criss. More than Bowers' gang. More than Bowers himself. And that was saying something.

Robert licked his lips.

"What're--" Bill didn't even get to finish the question before he watched, horror-struck, as that tongue wrapped around his cock, like... like a snake coiling around its victim.

Like a boa constrictor constricting, the tongue wrapping around Bill's cock, starting at the tip and wrapping all the way down to the base, and Robert's mouth was on him next, swallowing him down whole as though intending to swallow Bill down.

"D-don't," Bill pleaded but it fell on deaf ears.

It was so weird and unlike any other blowjob possible or imaginable. Bill wouldn't know but Richie had said some stupid shit before. Robert's mouth was so warm... no, it was so _hot_ and so wet, and it felt so good. Bill could feel himself growing harder in Robert's mouth, his cock throbbing painfully and betraying his mind. He could feel the tongue moving along his cock, curled around it, as Robert lifted his mouth up and down, lips brushing against his own tongue and Bill's cock. Bill's hips jerked upwards when he felt the tip of Robert's tongue teasing the tip of his cock, teasing the... slit. He was gasping, heat pooling inside of him, in the pit of his belly, fogging his thoughts, his cock aching for its second release. Bill moaned when he felt the tongue sliding up and down his cock along in the monster's mouth and... Bill moaned like a whore, wanton and strung out, as his second release coursed through him, cock twitching and release spurting into Robert's mouth, toes curling in his shoes, and Bill whimpered as he felt Robert's throat on him, swallowing his release, and the tongue was still stroking him. It felt so good but was starting to become painful.

"Sensitive..." Bill croaked out, his voice hoarse.

Bill sighed with relief when he felt Robert's mouth pull away and his tongue was off his most sensitive area. Bill looked up at Robert, eyes clouded as he gasped for breath. Little gasps that were high in pitch. He was truly scared of what was coming and scared of It. It was like It could read Bill's thoughts, and Bill guessed it could, as Robert grinned, happily and contentedly.

"Good boy," Robert whispered as he spread Bill's legs and lifted his bottom half up.

"What're you... what're you d-doing?" Bill asked, confused.

Virginity meant... having sex with a girl, didn't it? And... that was Bill's first blowjob... wouldn't... It would turn into a girl now, right? Robert just grinned at Bill before patting him on the cheek in a mocking gesture of sympathy.

"Works both ways, Billy," Robert said and Bill stared at him.

Bill watched, in a transfixed horror, as Robert lowered himself back down to Bill's private area, but forewent his cock entirely.

"D-don't..." Bill murmured brokenly, realizing what Robert was going to do. "That's n-not..." Bill murmured but stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

"It is, Billy boy," Robert said, entertained.

Bill's breath hitched and seemed to stop in his throat when he felt that wet tongue probing him... _there_. "D-don't! N-no!" Bill cried out, trying to kick away but the grip on his inner thighs returned, strong hands holding them apart and keeping the teen still.

He whined and cried as he felt that tongue touching his rim. He pulled his hands down and tried to pull off the torn sleeve of the slicker with his mouth, but the knot might as well have been a sailor's.

"Stop!" he cried, bordering hyperventilating.

He stilled and let out a soundless gasp, one that was choked, almost completely strangled, when the tongue pushed _in_. He trembled with fear that made It purr with delight as that tongue pushed inside of him, wetting his insides and Bill's eyes were wide, pupils blown, as that tongue explored inside of him. He felt it swirling inside, wetting him, teasing him, and he felt himself stirring again, cock aching painfully and pleasurably now, and then Bill felt it. He felt a pleasure he'd never felt and never even knew possible when that tongue brushed something _inside_ , _deep_ inside, of him. He barely registered Robert's pleased chuckle. He felt himself hardening, his teenage body betraying him, and he was hurting. Sweat clung to his skin and he could smell it, it was just as bad as the smell of the sewer. He felt that tongue repeatedly probing that spot, heat coiling in his belly, making him ache wonderfully and he was gasping for breath, high-pitched and wanton.

Bill's thighs trembled and quivered in Robert's grip and he let out a strangled sort of moan when he came a third time. He came on himself, painting his belly white with his come and staining his skin. He gasped, trying to seize air in his lungs, even though it was foul and putrid, and he cried as he felt that tongue pull out of him and slide over his belly, wetting it as Robert licked away his release.

"H-hu-hurts," Bill whimpered as he felt Robert's gloved hand on his cock again.

"Oh, Billy... you'll come as many times as I want you to, after all, we've still got the big finish," Robert said with a bit of a demented grin and Bill closed his eyes. "Open those eyes or lose your eyelids," Robert said warningly and Bill sobbed into his restraints as he opened his eyes, wishing himself anywhere but here... even wishing for death.

Bill felt those gloved fingers brushing against his rim and he stilled, trembling uncontrollably when he felt a finger breach him and probe around inside of him like some kind of alien. Robert took his time too, teasing him, exploring him. He had time and unfortunately for Bill, It was going to take its dear sweet time and maybe not even kill Bill in the end... Bill cried with fear at the sound of that. Was this what his life was going to be now until he did die? Probably from old age or if It ever got sick of him and did kill him?

"Tease," Robert muttered, tongue lolling out of his mouth at the aroma of terror that was coming off Bill in the form of tidal waves.

Bill stiffened when he felt a second finger enter him, stretching him and it _burned_. It burned and it _hurt_.

"Hu-hurts..." Bill stuttered out, trying not to choke on his words and his sobs.

"Relax," Robert murmured and Bill reluctantly did so, wincing as It began making scissoring motions, stretching him open.

He hated that relaxing did make it hurt less, but it still hurt when a third finger was added, stretching him to his limit. Robert teased him, slowly dragging his fingers in and out, stretching them, scissoring Bill open, and after a while, those fingers were pulled out and Bill was laid onto his back again. Bill blearily looking up at Robert who was grinning at him, teeth bared but at the moment, not sharp and entirely lethal. Bill closed his eyes when he heard the sound of fabric rustling and the bells on the clown suit jingling, having a dreadful sort of feeling what was coming.

"Eyes, Billy," Robert said and Bill cried as he forced them open and they widened when they saw what Robert was sporting.

It looked human, just like Bill's, but bigger. Way bigger. If that thing was going inside of him... Bill shook his head, dread and fear one with each other in his gut and in his very core. Bill's boxers were pulled from his ankles, his legs completely spread.

"Worried about it fitting, Billy?" Robert asked, looming over Bill and Bill began to shake like a leaf, unable to stop himself. "Don't worry, it'll fit, I'll make sure of it," Robert promised with that demented grin as he pressed one hand onto Bill's chest, fingertips brushing the bundled up part of Bill's shirts, fingers splayed as he positioned himself at Bill's entrance.

Bill let out a strangled sort of gasp that Robert quickly swallowed with a forceful kiss as he felt the blunt head of that massive, no, _monstrous_ cock push inside of him, the head pushing in and just like that... Bill was no longer a virgin. Bill whimpered into the kiss, the fingers having done no good for stretching him. It felt like he was being split in two straight from his bottom, from his hole, and he couldn't even manage a gasp or a sob as it kept pushing up inside and not even spreading his legs was helping.

"Hu-hu-hur-hurts..." Bill stuttered out, breaking the kiss and choking on his words.

Robert didn't respond, just kept pushing inside, deeper and deeper... Bill could feel it stretching him and felt as though he was going to tear apart. It was so long in girth, and the width was beyond inhuman.

After what felt like an eternity, Robert stilled and Bill felt the fabric of the clown suit against his skin. Robert just chuckled.

"Such a tiny little body," Robert said as he ran his fingers over Bill's stomach and Bill saw, with a gut-wrenching horror, that his stomach was bulging slightly and he knew it was the monstrous cock inside of him.

"Puh-please..." Bill begged, wanting it out more than anything and to his great surprise, Robert seemed to actually listen, ominous yellow eyes glazed over with lust.

The teen whimpered when he felt the monstrous cock pull out of him, slow and steady, almost teasingly, and only the head was in...

Bill **_screamed_**.

The cock was slammed back into him and he felt as though his insides were being rearranged, as though his body was being speared open. He made a desperate grab and his hands were held above his head as It began pounding into him, surely splitting him apart and with great shame, spiking pleasure, and agonizing pain, Bill let out the most whorish moan imaginable when that monstrous cock slammed into that spot deep inside him.

"That's your sweet spot," Robert grunted out. "Like it don't you?" he grinned. "Slut," he taunted.

Bill was trying to suck in air while being impaled on the monstrous cock and some part of him, deep inside himself, did like the feeling of the cock slamming into that spot that made him see stars that seemed to dance in his vision. He wanted it. He wanted more. Robert was slamming into him, hard, probably the hardest imaginable, but some part of Bill didn't feel like it was enough... in Bill's fogged mind, it was taking too long...

"F-fa-fas-fast-er," Bill stuttered out and Robert gave him a surprised glance before he grinned his predatory grin and complied.

Bill's head jerked from side to side, toes curling inside his shoes, fingers grasping futilely onto the air, as Robert quickened his pace, slamming into him as hard as possible while going faster and slamming into Bill's _sweet_ spot. Bill was putty in the monster's hands, moaning like the best porn star on the planet, sweat staining his skin and positively reeking, and he felt it, he felt the monstrous cock twitching inside of him. He could _feel_ it. He could feel the cock throbbing inside of him just as he felt his own leak pre-cum onto his belly, aching and _begging_ for release.

"Puh-puh-please..." Bill begged, wanting more.

He cried out when he felt teeth on one nipple and fingers on the other, pinching and twisting mercilessly.

"Scream my name, brat," Robert growled, dark brown hair disheveled and eyes blood red.

"Robe-Rober--" Bill stuttered out, jerking in the monster's grip and moaning, over and over, wanton and broken.

"ROBERT!" Bill cried out at a hard thrust, his cock pouring pre-cum onto his stomach and throbbing with that painful ache and the need to release.

"Come for me, brat," Robert growled as his thrusts became sporadic, without rhythm, slamming into Bill and striking his sweet spot on each hit.

Bill came, back arching perfectly and a hoarse cry akin to a broken moan escaping his throat, passing his swollen lips. He felt like he was floating, but in a way that felt like some sort of heaven instead of Its deadlights. Unintentionally he clenched down onto the monstrous cock and Bill gasped when he felt heat flooding inside of him, Robert's hips stilling as he slammed into Bill, close as humanly possible, and Bill trembled in Robert's grip as that monstrous cock of his spurted its release, which was more than just a lot. It overflowed out of the teen and coated Bill's inner thighs while Bill's release soiled his stomach a second time.

Bill felt so full, fuller than imaginable, and his stomach was still bulging ever so slightly, now even worse with Robert's release... that monstrous cock still sitting inside of him...

Bill shivered and stared at Robert with broken eyes. He still held onto that human face, though his eyes were a deep bloody red again... Was he going to kill him now? Bill wanted that. Bill wanted that more than anything... Robert looked up and grinned at him, red eyes gleaming.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Robert asked and Bill nodded slowly, his eyes pink glassy with unshed tears. A gloved hand took hold of Bill's face. " _Or_..." Robert said in that same tone of voice as when he'd made the deal... and when he'd taunted Bill just... moments... minutes... hours before? "I could keep you..." Robert said and Bill's eyes widened, fear welling into the pit of his very core. "I rather like that idea, don't you Billy?" Robert taunted and Bill began to cry.

"K-kill me! Puh-puh-please!" Bill begged.

"Puh-puh-puh," Robert taunted him.

Bill let out a pained cry when he felt that cock moving inside of him again.

"Hurts!" he cried out.

"Sweet dreams, Billy. See you in twenty-seven years," Robert-- _It_ said and Bill felt that same floating feeling, into Its deadlights, even as he felt himself being impaled vigorously by that monstrous cock.

Into the very void of the Macroverse, with real _fear_ , with _true terror_ , Bill Denbrough _**screamed**_.


	2. Note

Comments are sweet and holy shit with all those kudos. I am planning a part 2 probably with Bill as an adult, though I have some compelling ideas still revolving around the first movie. I saw IT 2 and it was good, and I do plan on a part 2. It was just easier to write part one since I have seen the movie over 8 times. Not sure WHEN part 2 will be our but let's say the funs just getting started...

Sorry I couldn't resist lol

Also if there's a specific request for the clown and Bill, let me know ;)


	3. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- And I'm back. So sorry for the month wait but here it is. Part two, and if anyone wants me to make this an actual, longer story, I just might  
> \- Also, crazy ginger clowns (plus a green-haired one) is totally a type and probably one of the best types there is lol  
> \- So sorry if there are spoilers for the second movie. Also, did any of you know there was an Indian Pennywise? Look it up on Youtube, the Evolution of Pennywise, animated.  
> \- So, I would recommend IT Chapter Two if you haven't seen it yet, but it was more funny than scary. Bill Hader was the best casting choice for Richie, like ever. Adult Eddie was just like young Eddie, I didn't care much for Jessica Chastain as Beverly, Stanley was spot on, and Jay Ryan was pretty hot. James McAvoy was a pretty good choice for Bill if not weird since we all probably expected an X-Men reference or that was just me. Isaiah Mustafa was good too. People who have seen the movie, opinions on it?  
> \- Ok, so a lot of people wanted a teen demon pregnancy and I've never done mpreg before, read a lot of fics(obviously), but that's new territory for me so bear with me if it sucks. I'll admit, not sure where to go. An actual story or just two parts like the movies? Let's just hope it doesn't suck like Bill's endings lol  
> 

Being in the Deadlights was like reliving your memories on a neverending loop, but worse. At least, for Bill it was. He could very well remember who he was, what he was, who his friends were, who his family was, who his bullies were, and what he loved, what he hated, and what he was afraid of. He was afraid of the clown. Afraid of It. Bill, in the Deadlights, could see all of his friends and his family and even his bullies, almost to the point of being able to _feel_ them, feel their presence, but at the same time, he felt like he was dead. He felt cold and alone and most of all, afraid. He didn't think he could ever forget that fear.

Of all of his friends, the one he felt closest to, at least in the Deadlights, was Beverly. Pretty Beverly Marsh. At the same time, however, it was like a neverending nightmare. Almost like a vision and even though the scenarios in the nightmares were sometimes slightly different, the ending was all the same. His friends were dead. All of them, except for him. While his friends were dead, somewhat more merciful when considering the clown, It, was still alive, Bill was trapped in the Deadlights, trapped in a neverending light that was worse than the dark.

At least in the dark, you couldn't see what nightmarish monster was about to jump out of the shadows and scare you, maybe even eat you. In the Deadlights, Bill could feel and fear the very being of It. The most he could see of It, when not in the form of the clown or even Georgie, was a monstrous spider form. It was like It really had no other form, other than the cold, dead light.

Being in the Deadlights, Bill could see things he never thought of before. Death and devastation, children and even adults being devoured by their innermost fears but he wasn't just watching it happen, it was like he was reliving the scene as though it was a memory, but not even his own memories. He could see children and adults being killed and eaten. People he knew and people he didn't know. Betty Ripsom, Ed Corcoran, even Patrick Hockstetter and Belch Higgins and Victor Criss. Even Georgie.

Reliving those nightmares, and the monster's memories, it made Bill feel horrible and terrified and being inside of the Deadlights made that horror infinitely worse. He felt horrible and afraid when he saw all of those people being killed and he felt horrible when he relived seeing Georgie reaching into the storm drain for a paper boat of all things and then the chomping sound made Bill sick to his seemingly nonexistent stomach, as did the taste of blood, but the monster relished in the taste of blood, flesh, and even bone. He didn't think he could ever forget that nightmare.

Most of the time, Bill's guilt was infinitely worse and he knew he could never forgive himself, Deadlights or not, for being the reason Georgie died and the worst nightmares were when he watched Georgie wandering around the sewer system, missing his slicker and his arm, carrying a bloodied paper boat, looking lost and scared. Sometimes it was even worse when it was his rotting corpse, screaming at Bill.

"YOU _LIED_ AND I _DIED_!"

His guilt was even worse when the nightmares turned to his friends, all older, maybe about their parents' ages, and all of them dying. Horribly, terribly, _gruesomely_. He could remember making the deal, trading himself for them, hoping that they would all live happy lives like the clown promised until they died of old age, not wanting to be responsible for his friends dying just like Georgie, but seeing them die, and _feeling_ the pain and the fear of them dying was the worst.

Bill could see Stanley Uris, an older Stanley but definitely a Stanley, in a white bathtub, surrounded by steam to the point that the mirror was fogged and there was blood dripping onto the tiled floors from his slit wrists. There was no light in his eyes. He was dead.

Bill could see Beverly Marsh, older and with shorter hair, beaten and bruised up. Sometimes he could see a man he didn't recognize beating on her until her bones broke and until she was coughing up blood but the man kept hitting her, even kicking her and punching her in the face until the light left her eyes. Other times, with Beverly, he could see her standing on top of a dirty toilet in a little bathroom stall, blood filling it up to the ceiling until she was drowning in it and he could feel Beverly's life leave her. She was dead too.

Bill could see another man, dark hair that was slightly graying and somehow, he wasn't sure how he knew but somehow he did, he knew it was Ben Hanscom. Ben's death scenario was often like Beverly's, but in what looked like an underground clubhouse instead of a bathroom stall painted with graffiti and blood, drowning in soil instead of blood. Pennywise was there, eyes a bright yellow as he grinned, looming over Ben, and shut some kind of trap door on his head, sealing him in and sealing his fate. Other times, Ben was in some sort of building, like a type of mall, and the mall was caving in on him. He died just the same as Beverly, alone and trapped.

Bill could see what was definitely an older Eddie Kaspbrak driving and talking to someone named Myra before another car was slamming into him from the right and he was killed almost instantly in a car crash. If it wasn't a car crash or even cancer Eddie was dying from, lying in a hospital bed with a woman who was almost just like his mother next to him, then he had a gaping hole in his chest and back, all the way through and he was alone, dying slowly and painfully.

Bill could see what looked like an older Richie Tozier, one who had grown into his looks, floating in midair as the Deadlights surrounded him too. Unlike Bill, however, Richie was dead. He could feel it, he could feel Richie's fear as though he was reliving the same nightmares Bill was but Richie's was different. His fear wasn't losing someone, his fear was... someone finding out something he'd rather keep secret... Richie's dirty little secret... he could hear Pennywise's taunting voice echoing in the back of his mind. It didn't matter. Just like Stan, Beverly, Ben, and even Eddie, he could feel Richie die just as he felt Richie's regret for never telling Eddie something.

Bill could then see Mike, an older Mike, who's death varied the most. What looked like an older version of Bowers stabbing him to death. Other times, he was trapped in a burning building and Bill could hear the screams of a man and a woman, not just Mike. Either way, Mike was dead all the same. Bill could see it just as he _felt_ it.

With each death, Bill could feel the life leave his friends. He felt each one of his friends die just as he felt It's presence looming over him, as though _both_ of them were watching the nightmares play like a recording over and over again. It was almost like It was taunting him with the possibility of his friends dying. Taunting him and terrorizing him, over and over again.

The nightmares always continued on and if Bill wasn't in the sewer and watching his friends die on loop, with the putrid smell of sewage and death burning his sense of smell, then he was watching other people that he didn't know die. These people, however, were new instead of the ones who were already dead. Almost as though It was showing Bill the future and either what he was planning to do, or what was going to actually happen. Almost taunting Bill with the fact that he couldn't change what was going to happen.

Bill was at the carnival, or at _a_ carnival. The smell of peanuts, cotton candy, and popcorn invading his senses almost to the point of being pungent. Underneath the smell of food was beer and the reek of sewage and death. A sign It was lurking somewhere ready to hunt and to kill. It wasn't even the thought of It lurking around somewhere that scared Bill, not at the moment at least, but the sound of someone, a man, screaming out, repeatedly.

"Adrian! Adrian!"

Bill could feel the fear that the person screaming felt and even the pain that this Adrian person was in. His face felt bloodied and numb and he was drowning in what felt like water. Adrian's pain became panic and his panic became terror as he fought for breath and struggled to swim, his lungs burning for air that wouldn't come.

Then, a ray of hope, from Adrian, because someone was offering their hand out to him but Bill knew better. He could see who was offering their hand out and that only made Bill afraid for Adrian. What he saw was a man dressed in a white clown suit with ginger hair and glowing yellow eyes.

Adrian then felt the same fear Bill did after the man pulled him from the water, hoisting Adrian up and pulling one of Adrian's arms over his shoulder, both hands gripping him painfully and a sense of foreboding was pooling in the pit of Adrian's gut and even Bill's. Fear turned into pain as teeth sunk into flesh, biting into Adrian's chest and tearing out a huge chunk of skin, spraying blood, and tearing out a piece of Adrian's still-beating heart. Just like his friends, Bill felt Adrian die and felt the terror that the other man was feeling.

The nightmares changed again but it was even worse than Adrian or even Bill's friends. Worse, not because they mattered less, but because it was the voice of a _child_.

Not only that, but the child's feelings when from curiosity to a sense of fear and then regret and then hope all in one before it turned into confusion and even a little fear again. Bill could see it. A little girl with a weird mark on her face, either a weird birthmark or some kind of burn mark and he hated Pennywise more than anything for playing on her insecurities. Toying with her emotions on her face mark by saying nobody wanted to be _friends_ with _him_ because of how _he_ looked.

"You're supposed to say three..."

The little girl said before white-hot pain erupted in her face, right on that strange mark, teeth sinking into flesh and tearing into her head, killing her almost instantly.

The nightmares changed but became more vivid this time. Bill wasn't just watching the scene unfold through what looked like tv static, like a vision, but was actually inside of it. He felt more conscious than he'd been in God, or It, only knows how long. Bill was inside of a mirror house, hands pressed against the glass of one of the mirrors and looking into his own reflection, that sense of foreboding still lingering in the pit of his gut.

Bill could hear a little boy screaming before he heard glass breaking and then one final scream before the chomping sound, just like Georgie's, hit his ears and made him sick to his stomach and he watched, on the other side of the glass, as blood splattered all over it, the dim, flickering light making it so much _worse_.

The mirror house turned dark and then the light flickered on again and the blood was gone. He looked up into his reflection and saw an older man, about his dad's age, instead of his teenage self. The man in the reflection was much taller, wore a blue flannel, a white undershirt, jeans, and had the same striking blue eyes and slightly longer hair. When Bill tilted his head to the side, so did the man in the mirror. When Bill slapped his hands to the mirror, so did the man.

Bill felt sad when he thought of how this could've been him if it hadn't been for the clown. It was his own fault and he knew that, but at the same time, it was just unfair. In the back of his mind, in the darkest corner of his thoughts, he felt betrayed. If Stan hadn't left, then maybe the others wouldn't have... they had fought It in Neibolt and had hurt It when they were together...

Bill felt slightly angry then. If Stan hadn't been such a coward, then the others wouldn't have left... Bill knew it was his own fault, but Stan and the others could've helped him and they could've beaten It. Bill knew they could've. Some part of him hated Stan and the others for not convincing Stan to stay and help them fight.

Suddenly, the light flickered off again and everything was darkness before Bill blinked and the light was back on. He was still in the mirror house, but instead of seeing what could've been Bill twenty-seven years later, he saw himself, still a teenager, still in the same clothes he was wearing when his friends made the deal, but there were two things _wrong_ with his reflection.

The first thing wrong with his reflection was that he was huge in the middle, almost looking as though he was _pregnant_. He looked like his mom did when she was pregnant with Georgie, her stomach sticking out so far and so swollen and he remembered his dad had told him that he'd explain how Bill's baby brother was inside of his mother when Bill was _older_.

Bill never even got the chance to be older. He never got the chance to be older and he certainly didn't get to die like he had thought he would and even hoped he would after the clown had stolen his first _kiss_ , then his first _blowjob_ , and finally his _virginity_.

The second thing wrong with his reflection was that the clown was standing right behind him, long arms wrapped around Bill like Bill's father had always been wrapped around his mother when she was pregnant with Georgie. Bill remembered his father taking care of his mother every chance he got, almost protectively. The clown, on the other hand, in the reflection, seemed more possessive and the sense of foreboding was only growing worse.

One arm was snaked around Bill's neck and pulling him closer, the other resting on the curve of the very swollen, very _pregnant_ belly. Bill gave a full-body shudder and felt weak in the knees when he felt something inside of him, inside of the very swollen, very _pregnant_ belly and it felt like hundreds, maybe even thousands, of little spiders were scuttling around inside of him, like hundreds of little legs were scampering around inside of him and he felt squeamish and faint. His shirt was even riding up, just barely covering his chest and exposing him.

The clown was grinning at him with sharklike teeth, a positively predatory and possessive look in his ominously yellow eyes. He was wearing the clown suit and the makeup, but he didn't have the ginger hair. Instead, he looked like the face of the man Bill hadn't recognized when he'd taken Bill's virginity. A sort of handsome man with dark brown hair and yet his eyes were still lazy and his lip was still curved downwards. Bill tried to move away but the clown's grip tightened and Bill trembled, lip quivering and his eyes grew hot. He thought of Beverly when the clown's grip turned tighter and _possessive_. Afraid and like some sort of item to be owned.

Bill let out a shuddering gasp when he actually felt the clown behind him, puffballs pressing into his back, an arm around his neck, and a hand on his belly. From behind the clown emerged hundreds of bright red balloons, each of them floating upwards and all around them in the reflection and each one had words written on it, some of them saying the same thing and others saying something completely different that had Bill's heartbeat increasing, fear rising deep in his gut and the clown smiled smugly at him.

Some of the balloons said _I ♥ Derry_ and others said _Congratulations!_ and Bill honestly wasn't sure what he was being congratulated on until he saw the words on the other balloons, hundreds of them floating around them. Some said _It's a girl!_ and others said _It's a boy!_ and Bill could hear children laughing and swore he heard upbeat carnival music playing and he heard someone else, a man, _laughing_ but it wasn't Pennywise laughing.

At the very least, it wasn't the Pennywise behind him laughing. It felt like another version of the clown, another version of It, and the voice sounded older, more creepy than this Pennywise, who was scary. Bill was certain that for a brief second, he could feel the presence of _another It_ and Bill's heart began pounding in his chest, racing with fear at the thought of that and Pennywise smiled creepily and happily. Bill hadn't thought such a smile was possible before, but here it was. Smug and all.

Bill shivered as he felt and watched, in his reflection, as tentacles slithered out from behind him and wrap around his body, his reflection, and his person suddenly without pants and underwear and he couldn't hold back the tears as a particularly grabby tentacle took hold of his cock, coiling around it like a snake and stroking it leisurely.

Others wrapped around Bill's quivering thighs, pulling his legs apart and holding him up, two sliding up his shirt and he jerked forward when he felt them touch his sensitive nipples and Bill began to shake as he felt a slippery tentacle slide over his hole, wetting the rim and he began to sob when he felt the blunt head of a coke pressing against his hold, the tentacle beginning to push inside of him.

The clown pressed him against the mirror, his hands pressing against the glass as more tentacles curled around his wrists, holding him in place, his fingers squeaking against the cracked glass as tentacles wrapped all over his body, holding him close to the clown and acting like ropes tying him up and restricting his movements. Bill choked on a sob as he felt the cock pushing into his hole along with the tentacle, the pain familiar and unwanted as both pushed inside of him, the tentacle sliding in and the cock spearing him open, pain erupting inside of his small body. He felt so full and so distended, almost as though he was ready to pop like a balloon and he certainly looked like one too.

Bill jerked forward, his hips thrusting forward and he moaned as he felt that tentacle brush that part inside of him. That special spot inside of him, that spot _deep inside_ of his body.

The clown's taunting words from before echoed in his mind as the cock slammed into him, slamming into that spot and spearing him open and Bill cried out with shock and screamed when white-hot pleasure spiked through his body, heat flooding into his cock as the tentacle coiled around it swirled around the head and the tip teased the slit.

 _That's your sweet spot. Like it don't you? Slut._ The clown's voice echoed in Bill's head as he squirmed in Its vicelike grip, tentacles sliding up and down his body and the two up his shirt toying with his nipples, teasing them and twisting them and he felt hot in the face as he watched it happen in the mirror.

Bill trembled as he felt another tentacle sliding up his neck, wrapping around it as though toying with the idea of strangling him before it uncurled and then the tip was massaging Bill's lips, trailing over them almost like a finger and Bill shivered at the feeling. He tried to jerk his head away but a gloved hand gripped his hair, yanked his head back and Bill cried out with pain, the tentacle shoving into his open mouth at once and nearly choking him, almost tickling the back of his throat and his eyes watered on instinct.

The worst part of it wasn't even the pleasure he was getting from a literal monster that ate children. Bill cried out with pain as the tentacles around his nipples and cock tightened painfully, as though punishing him for that thought and the clown just smiled innocently at him, patting him on the cheek with false sympathy with his free hand. The worst part wasn't even the pain he was feeling from being speared open with that monstrous cock as he was toyed with, teased, and fucked all at once.

The worst part was watching it all happen in his reflection. His shirt was pulled up and showing the tentacles playing with his sensitive buds that were quickly becoming swollen and sore, his cock was turning pink and then red as became hot and throbbed in the tentacle's grip and he wanted to cum badly but It wasn't letting him, almost as though taunting him with it and refusing him release. The heat was coursing through his body, his face and ears as red as his hair, his body already becoming slick with sweat and he could feel wetness on his rim, sliding down the backs of his thighs. It felt like hundreds of little spiders were scuttling and scurrying inside of his swollen belly, his mouth full and his throat already becoming sore, almost choking him.

His hole felt fuller than when he was first fucked by that monstrous cock, the tentacle inside of him wetting his insides and sliding inside of him, and when the cock was out, the tentacle was in, keeping Bill full and fucked into. His fingers squeaked against the fogged up glass, yet there was still that one space open and revealing what Bill was doing. If there was a Hell besides the Deadlights, Bill was sure he would end up there for enjoying the feeling of the clown and his alien appendages fucking into him and worst of all, he _liked watching_ it happen.

Bill felt _so hot_ and _so good_ despite knowing it was _so wrong_. He could already smell the reek of sweat and sex, even among the foul smell of sewer and death, the tangy smell of blood, and even the sweeter smells of peanuts, cotton candy, and popcorn.

His cock was throbbing in the tentacles' grip, pre-cum dripping onto the dirtied floor as his thighs were spread apart _and_ he yelped, the sound muffled by the tentacle in his mouth, as he was lifted up slightly. His shoes barely brushing the floor and his hands squeaking against the glass, toes curling and fingers trying and failing to grip something. _Anything_.

Each thrust of the clown's hips seemed to make his monstrous cock and that slippery tentacle slide deeper and deeper into Bill's body, each thrust and slide hitting and brushing his sweet spot. And Bill? Bill _liked_ it.

The heat was pooling in his belly, flooding his insides, his thoughts turning foggy and his eyes glazed over. His entire body felt hot, his belly, his ears, his face, all with shame and pleasure as his cock throbbed and ached for release as the clown fucked into him and Bill could only watch it happen in the mirror and Bill _liked_ it.

He actually _liked_ watching and feeling the clown take hold of him and use his body like some sort of toy for pleasure. Bill could feel his cock twitching in the tentacle's grip and could even feel that monstrous cock inside of him twitching.

He watched himself in the mirror. His face and cock were flushed, his eyes and cock begging for release, as the clown used him as a toy and abused his body, sucking at Bill's neck and leaving live bites and actual bites in his flesh, the sting of the actual bites making Bill cry out and then _moan_.

The clown actually chuckled at that. He looked entertained and amused as he kept fucking into Bill's body.

"You're just a glutton for punishment, aren't you, Billy? Just a little _slut_ ," he taunted.

Bill didn't care. He wanted _more_. He wanted to feel that cock slamming inside of him as the clown sunk his dangerously sharp teeth into his flesh.

Bill cried out at a hard thrust and moaned at the feeling, his vision blurry with tears and with heat. He _liked_ the feeling of pain mixing with pleasure even though he _hated_ himself.

He watched as the clown's slippery tongue, long and prehensile, almost its own tentacle, slithered out of his mouth and Bill shivered as it brushed against the shell of his ear. The feeling was foreign, but not... it wasn't _good_ , what was happening and Bill knew that, but it didn't feel _bad_. Bill _liked it_.

And then it hit him.

A pain unlike anything else he'd ever felt hit deep inside of him, worse than getting socked in the gut by Bowers or his gang, and Bill cried out, almost screaming, but the sound was muffled as the tentacle fucked his mouth and he cried out in pain and delight as he felt the monstrously sized cock and the tentacle inside of him speed up, slamming into him inhumanly hard and inhumanly fast. He squealed as he felt the tentacles on his nipples tighten and pull and moaned whorishly and wantonly and brokenly at the feeling. His cock was flushed and dripping pre-cum, hot and begging to cum. Yet during all of this, Bill's insides actually felt like they were being ripped apart and the spiders inside of him seemed to become more anxious and were bubbling inside of him.

The clown grinned at his pain, as though he was gaining something out of it. Other than just pleasure. He patted Bill on the cheek in mock sympathy before slamming into him again, Bill crying out in pain and pleasure, moaning at the feeling, as the cock twitched inside of him and heat flooded his insides.

" _Soon_ , Billy."

**********

In the Derry library, Mike Hanlon pulls out a little book and his phone. It was time to make some phone calls. _Five_ phone calls, to be precise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- So, how was it?  
> \- Comments, requests, constructive criticism, and opinions are always valued!  
> \- Should I continue on with a story revolving around the second movie or leave it as is?  
> \- Ok, did you like the actors in the second movie? If not, who would you replace as an actor and why?  
> \- Also is that a good start for alien sex? I honestly have no idea lol  
> \- Sorry if this was kinda short


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Whattup moon pies?  
> \- Special thanks to the people who leave comments and kudos, they mean so much to me when they don't say my writing is total crap lol  
> \- Ok, so the whole scene with Adrian was expected considering I read the book but tears were shed, I'll admit that  
> \- I know the movie is out now but I don't have it yet so I'm basing it on what I can see on Youtube and remember from the movie which was so long but good, aside from the bullying the bully part and turning Pennywise's head into a cookie. Oh, you could just tell Richie really pissed him off lol  
> \- I'm gonna tell y'all now, things are gonna get weird and stray from the original movie. Like, a lot. Probably. And me, being me, I cannot let Richie's ending happen twice. Just saying  
> \- Warning for the bashing scene and homophobic slurs  
> \- Slight warning for violence... Oh, alright, this chapter gets FUCKED UP. Never say I didn't warn you  
> \- Also, no smut. Kissing, but no smut sorry  
> \- And I imagine that being in the Deadlights with Pennywise for twenty-seven years, you certainly wouldn't be your same old human self, now would you?

Waking up from the twenty-seven-year sleep was almost no different than waking up after a full night's sleep. At least, for Bill, it wasn't. He still felt the creep up his spine as he blinked away the sleep and tiredness, though it wasn't a brightly lit bedroom that Bill awoke in. It was the same spot where Pennywise had sent him into the Deadlights for the second time and left him there for supposedly twenty-seven years, long enough for the cycle to repeat itself and so that It was rested enough to hunt for another summer in Derry yet again. To take children away from their parents and families and eat them like they were nothing more than a predator's next meal, no more than prey to be hunted.

Bill shivered as the cold air of the sewer touched his skin, a bitter chill running down his spine as goosebumps erupted on his flesh. He felt his face with shaking hands and trembled as his lip quivered. He was still tiny, his face still small and soft instead of what it looked like in the mirror in the nightmare from the Deadlights. His hands still felt so small and Bill choked on a sob. Why couldn't the clown have just killed him and let him be with Georgie again?

It hurt him less, Bill surmised. It was more painful for Bill to be alive and live with his guilt and the memories and the trauma, and probably more entertaining to watch Bill suffer after he and his friends had hurt and scared it in Neibolt. On Its own territory no less. So, of course, it would want Bill to pay the price and suffer the consequences. Bill knew it was his own fault for Georgie going missing, being killed by It, and he hated himself for it and he could understand that but he hated Stan at the same time. If Stan hadn't left, then the others probably wouldn't and maybe, just _maybe_ , they could've fought the clown a second time and _won_. What hurt Bill, even more, was the fact that none of the others, Richie or Eddie or even Beverly, tried to convince Stan to stay.

"Guys, we can't," was all Beverly had said and it did nothing.

Stan still left and the others, including Beverly, had followed. Bill had told them to leave, not wanting to be responsible for their deaths like Georgie, but it didn't make him feel any less hurt and betrayed. They were supposed to be his friends, the group of Losers, and they left him.

Bill sniffled as he blinked and looked around, seeing the missing kids, some of them only rotted body parts, floating above his head atop the pile of broken, bloodied toys and garments of clothing that It had collected over the years. He grimaced as the putrid smell of sewage, the tangy smell of blood, and the reek of death hit his senses. He was wet all over, his clothes soaking wet and sticking to his skin and he felt dirty all over. Almost tainted.

He remembered how Ben had said that all of the major disappearances in Derry happened twenty-seven years apart, like a twenty-seven-year cycle before It would wake up and would _feed_. They could've stopped It, Bill knew that. He knew deep down that they could have done it if they had stuck together but nobody would stand beside him. He had no friends. He was alone.

Bill genuinely wondered what his friends had done after they left, abandoning him in the sewer. They had probably figured Bill to be dead like all of the other kids in Derry and Bill felt tears welling in his eyes as the mental image of a missing kid poster popped into his mind but instead of Richie's face, a fake made by Pennywise to taunt him, or even Betty Ripsom and Ed Corcoran or even Patrick Hockstetter, it was Bill's face. He wondered if his friends were just able to move on and go back to living mundane lives, being kids during the summer and having _fun_. Had they grown up as the clown had promised they would? Were they all adults now and in their forties? Their parents' ages?

He had a feeling Richie could easily grow up to be a comedian, even if what he said wasn't really funny and probably not his own material. He could see Eddie becoming a doctor if he wanted after he'd patched up Ben since Bowers had carved an H into his stomach. Or even a pharmacist. He wondered if Mike would just stay on his grandfather's farm or actually get out of Derry and wondered the same about Beverly and Ben. Had they gotten out of Derry? Had any of them? Were they living happy, rich, and fulfilling lives or were they all just destined to die horribly like how the Deadlights showed? Oblivious to the world around them and the literal monster that lurked beneath Derry's surface and in its sewers like all other adults and parents?

The bitterness grew as he thought about his parents. Obviously, they would have noticed that Bill had gone missing. Or they wouldn't have, he really wasn't sure. His dad probably wouldn't care if his friends had gone and told them that Bill had gone missing and his mom would care even less than his dad, both of them blaming him for Georgie's disappearance and the discord it caused in their family. Bill couldn't blame his parents, but he still hated them for it at the same time.

He hadn't _meant_ for it to happen, he just didn't want to play with Georgie on a rainy day. He didn't mean for Georgie to die and if he could take it back, he would. But he couldn't and as far as his parents knew, Bill was gone too. The only two things that it could be was that he was just another missing kid, or he'd run away from home. Either one, a likely scenario in the shithole town that was Derry.

He wondered if his friends would've even said anything or if they had just watched his parents wonder if they even did wonder, where he was at. They couldn't have said much, and certainly not the truth, but Bill couldn't still help but wonder about it. They probably forgot about him anyway, twenty-seven years was a long time.

Did they really just grow up and live their lives? Did they feel at all guilty about leaving Bill behind? Bill was just left in the sewer to stay trapped as a child forever, or at least until Pennywise got bored of him and killed him. He really wished that the clown would've just given him that small mercy, even if he still chose to torture Bill first.

Bill's face grew warm and then hot, turning red at the memories. It was out of both shame and anger at the same time, shame because he enjoyed it and anger because it had happened and because he had enjoyed it. Like a recording, the memories ran through his thoughts. He remembered the clown stealing his first kiss, giving him a blowjob, sticking his _tongue_ in a place that tongues weren't supposed to be, and then stealing Bill's virginity.

Bill had never thought of himself as _gay_ before, mostly because that was considered social suicide in Derry and you could expect a visit from Bowers and his gang and a beating that you wouldn't forget. Though Bill wasn't sure about how much gender and sexuality mattered to an interdimensional monster that ate children, considering it could take the form of whatever it wanted.

Bill only wished he could've died instead of Georgie, and maybe his parents could've moved on easier instead of having to live with the idea of losing both children. They might've even become more protective of Georgie instead of so cold and distant as they had done to Bill, and maybe Pennywise would've never have gotten Georgie because of that.

"Hiya Billy," Bill trembled with genuine fear at the sound of the clown's voice, which was almost kind and welcoming in sound, and against better judgment, he looked up.

The clown was standing in front of him, almost looming over him and he wore the same white clown suit, though it looked dirtier than before, with the same painted face with red marks from his eyes to his red lips, the bottom still curved down, but instead of the handsome face of the brown-haired man, it was the bulbous, cracked head with the spiked up, ginger hair. His eyes were a brilliant, deep blue before they seemed to bleed into the all too familiar ominous yellow. Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

The clown grinned at him, every tooth sharp and dangerous as the last. Each one was perfectly capable of biting and tearing flesh and snapping bones.

"Are ya ready, Billy?" the clown asked, an eager expression on his painted face.

"R-r-ruh-ready f-for w-w-what?" Bill stuttered out, a strange sense of foreboding pooling in his gut. He didn't like it. He also didn't like the way the clown's eyes looked over him with that same hungry expression, like Bill was a meal ready to be eaten and neither ways that Pennywise liked to eat sounded appealing to Bill.

The clown's grin grew, lips curved upwards and his face stretching. Bill wasn't sure if it reminded him of a killer shark, like the one in _Jaws_ , or a deadly snake. It reminded him of a shark because sharks were remorseless, cold-blooded killers who devoured what they could get their teeth into. Pennywise wasn't much different when he had a child within his grasp. It reminded him of a snake because he was clearly ready to strike and swallow whatever prey he caught whole.

"We're going out, silly Billy," the clown said simply, as though it was obvious.

Bill blinked, dumbfounded. His parents used to go out sometimes when they wanted adult time together and Bill would be stuck watching Georgie. He used to hate having to play babysitter, but now he'd give anything to have it back. Did he actually mean he was letting Bill out of the sewer? But he had said _we_ , which meant Bill would be going with _him_. Wherever he went.

"Why?" Bill couldn't help but ask and at once he wished he hadn't because the clown's next words sent an ice-cold chill up his spine.

"We're going _hunting_."

**********

"Is why I have to leave this shithole town," Don said, clearly unhappy with the homophobic carnival-goers that were commonly found in Derry. The kid even going so far as to spit at their feet. "Small minds," he added, walking with Adrian over the bridge.

"Yeah, small dicks," Adrian retorted, also unhappy but of course he had gotten the last word in and probably pissed that guy off even more.

"I'm being serious," Don said. "We belong elsewhere," he added. "Look, if you end up hating New York we can always move back here," he said, though he would prefer to stay in New York than ever return to Derry. Why come back if you actually got out?

"I just want to be with you. I don't care. New York, Derry, whatever," Adrian said as they stopped walking, unaware of the looming threat behind them.

"You have to say that," Don said, smiling slightly.

Adrian returned the smile. "I don't have to say anything," he said as before they lean in for a kiss.

"Take off that fucking hat," the guy with the bad haircut said, practically ordering it as he approaches them.

"Come on," Don said, turning and taking Adrian's hand but the other three are right behind them and the threat becomes real and apparent.

"We wouldn't want to give people the impression we have a bunch of fucking fairies like you in this town," their leader says coldly.

"Asshole," Adrian spat.

"Alright, let's go," Don says, not wanting to start anything and not wanting to get involved.

"No, you know what," Adrian says, pulling his hand from Don's and folding his arms over his chest. He wasn't one to back down from a fight and certainly not one caused by a group of homophobic assholes. "I'll take off the hat for you, but why leave it there? Anything else you'd like me to take off for you tonight?" he challenges, arms crossed. He turned around, grinning smugly at the other three. "Any special requests, ladies?"

That's when he gets punched in the face and he's tossed aside like trash, the beaver hat flying off his head and the bashing starts.

**********

The thing about It is that more specifically, It wakes up when a tragic event happens. Here and now, It has been woken up by the gay-bashing of Adrian Mellon and Don Hagarty. This time, with this event, It has a guest. But there is no honor in what's happening.

Bill can't help but flinch every time he hears the asshole basher's fist beating into Adrian's face and he remembers the nightmares from the Deadlights so vividly and he can honestly say this is a dream come true, but instead of some happy, sappy wish, it's a literal nightmare unfolding. He honestly couldn't care less if someone was gay if it made them happy and they found someone to be happy with than good for them, but Derry and its residents had opposing views. Particularly violent ones and he was disappointed to see that even nearly thirty years later, those views hadn't changed.

"S-s-stop, puh-puh-puh-lease," Bill stuttered out, begging for it to be over and he wasn't even the one getting beaten.

"Puh-puh," Pennywise mocked him, giggling slightly.

The thing about Pennywise, or It, was that it could not take a form and just watch from the sidelines before going after the prey, which in this case was Adrian, but Bill was with him this time and they were waiting, or at least the clown was and Bill was an unwilling participant, just under the bridge that the homophobic gang was about to throw Adrian Mellon off, uncaring whether he lived or died. Pennywise was holding Bill close, almost like a lover but it was more possessive than anything else, with one arm wrapped around Bill's neck and the other around his stomach and keeping him pressed against the clown, the puffballs of the suit digging into his back.

Bill couldn't take it, he could hear Adrian's boyfriend screaming out his name, begging for it to stop too. Bill knew how it felt to lose a loved one, he didn't want the same to happen here.

"D-don't hur-hurt him, puh-puh-please," Bill begged.

"But I'm _hungry_ , Billy," the clown says and Bill is sure that he's pouting.

Bill couldn't help but scowl. If he was so fucking hungry, then he could have four meals with the assholes on the bridge.

"You'd have me kill four people instead of one, Billy?" the clown asks and Bill stiffened.

Would he prefer four people to die instead of one? Well, not really, but they were four assholes who were beating on a homosexual couple just for being homosexual. It wasn't fair and it was the same kind of thing Bowers would do, just to make themselves feel better about their own sad, miserable, abused selves. Bill hated Bowers and he hated people like Bowers and he hated the assholes on the bridge, so yeah, he'd honestly prefer Pennywise kill them instead of Adrian. They fucking deserved it, not Adrian.

Pennywise chuckled in Bill's ear, the sound low and gravelly. It sent shivers up Bill's spine, goosebumps tingling on his skin.

"Kind of a turn on to see you get all angry, Billy," he said and Bill grimaced in disgust, trying to pull away but the clown's grip turned tighter.

Bill jumped when the sound of something splashing into the river hit his ears and he grew angry again when he heard the sound of the bashers leaving, running and the kid was complaining about not being able to keep some stupid hat.

"Adrian! Adrian!"

Bill flinched at the sound of the boyfriend's begging voice, hoping Adrian was already and probably praying for it.

"Well, Billy? I'm waiting," Pennywise whispered in his ear.

"H-hel-help A-a-a--" he struggled to say Adrian's name, his face growing redder and redder as he fought to get it out. "-FUCK!" Bill hated his stutter, hated it almost as much as Bowers and the bashers.

"Language, Billy," Pennywise giggled at him.

"H-help h-him... puh-puh-lease..." Bill begged.

Pennywise made a groaning sound, almost like it was a back-breaking chore to save a man's life.

"Fine, Billy, but you owe me," and with that, the clown licked Bill's cheek and tossed Bill to the side like some ragdoll, dropping him to the ground like he didn't even matter.

Bill watched, transfixed, as the scene unfolded and from the corner of his eye, he could see the boyfriend, sporting a bloody nose but hopeful eyes, as Adrian was pulled from the water and Bill could see that he was wearing brightly colored clothes and his nose looked broken.

"Hey! Hey man, Adrian!" the boyfriend said, not even caring that his shoes were getting dirty with shitty Derry water.

Pennywise, on the other hand, looked like he was actually considering between handing Adrian off to the boyfriend and sharp teeth were poking out of his lips.

"YOU FUCKING PROMISED!" Bill screamed, not even caring that the boyfriend looked like he had the shit scared out of him at the sight of Bill and he looked so confused.

 _Did not, Billy. Promised nothing at all._ Pennywise's annoyed expression said for him, his eyes narrowed as his grip on Adrian clearly tightened as he slung the man's arm over his shoulders, one gloved hand holding Adrian's wrist and the other wrapped around his waist.

"The assholes from the bridge! Kill them! Not him! Not him! _Not him_!" Bill screamed.

Pennywise glowered at him, eyes turning from ominous yellow to a lethal red and Bill was worried that he'd pissed him off, but Pennywise tossed Adrian at the boyfriend, who quickly scrambled away, pulling Adrian out of the water.

"Thank you... thank you..." the boyfriend said, looking between Bill and Pennywise before leaving, carrying Adrian back up onto the bridge.

Bill trembled all over, shaking like a leaf as he looked at his feet, each sound of water sloshing like the ticking of a clock that was counting down to a death sentence. He'd saved Adrian, the man who'd died in his nightmare, who'd literally had his heart eaten out of him, but it felt more bitter than it did sweet and it certainly didn't feel like a victory.

"Well, Billy, did it make you feel better?" Pennywise asked him.

Bill looked up, glaring at the clown who still had a pissed expression on his face.

"You saved nobody, you know that, don't you, Billy?" Pennywise said and Bill did know that.

"At least they deserve it," Bill croaked out, his voice and reason sounding hollow to his own ears.

Nobody, even people like the bashers, deserved to _die_. Bill frowned. His reason actually didn't sound so hollow. What had Adrian done to them to deserve getting his face bashed in along with his boyfriend? What had Adrian done to them to deserve getting tossed over a bridge? Then they ditched the scene. He could've died from the fall alone if he didn't get killed by Pennywise. And what had Adrian's boyfriend done to deserve getting his nose broken and his boyfriend almost killed? If Bill was honest, he didn't really care about the bashers. He almost wanted Pennywise to kill them.

"Still hungry, Billy," Pennywise said.

Bill glared at him.

"Then go fucking eat," he spat, not even stuttering.

Pennywise actually smiled at him, a smile that was knowing and plotting something that Bill knew already he wasn't going to like.

"Alright, Billy boy."

**********

"Did you see his fucking face?" the kid with the bashers said, all of them laughing as though they hadn't just committed a horrible thing and nearly killed somebody.

"Worthless fucking faggots anyway," the leader with the shitty haircut says, shaking his head.

"Fuck you," the voice of a kid says and all four turn to see a kid, probably just turning into a teenager, standing right behind them.

The leader stepped forward, an unimpressed expression on his face.

"You say something, kid?" he asked.

"Fuck you," the kid repeats, an angry look in his blue eyes.

He's not very tall, probably only thirteen, with reddish hair and angry blue eyes with a long-sleeved shirt, white with blue sleeves. His jeans look like they've been through a paper shredder, and his sneakers look ready to fall apart. That's not even the worst part. He smells like he went hiking in a sewer, has blood on him, and looks like death.

"Kid, we just beat a bunch of faggots and threw one over the river. You ain't shit," the leader said, shoving Bill onto the ground in a way that reminds Bill of Henry Bowers and Bill honestly doesn't feel bad for what's about to happen.

"C'mon, let's kick his ass too," the kid urges, balling his hand into a fist and punching it into his other palm.

"FUCK YOU!"

It's one of the two goons that goes first and Bill honestly expected the kid to go first since he was a _kid_ in _Derry_. The sickening sound of flesh tearing, bone snapping, and blood splattered hits his ears and even though he feels revolted, he feels like it's a justice sort of served.

Then they start screaming and it just sounds annoying and Bill can tell each one of them is terrified now. Oddly and creepily enough, he wonders if this is how Pennywise always is. It's like a mixture of scents all rolled into one. The smell of piss, for starters and he doesn't care which one did it but deems it sad that a bunch of grown men, and a kid, can almost beat the life out of two people, throw one over the bridge, and still piss his pants when getting attacked by a man dressed as a clown, even if he has monsterlike appendages and oversized, sharp teeth.

But then it's almost a sweet smell, like... sort of like a homemade meal or even a dessert and if that's what fear smells like, then Bill can almost understand why Pennywise kills people for the flavor. It smells sweet and rich, like a freshly baked dessert that just came out of the oven. It reminds him of his mom and even though the thought makes him sad, he still likes the smell and isn't sure if he should feel disgusted or just go with it.

"Hey, kid, c'mon, man, please..."

Bill sits up and sees the scattered body parts of one of the goonies and the kid, dead eyes looking up at him and he can't find himself caring and he knows deep down that it's wrong of him to not care that two people just died, but he can't help it. They had this coming. The other one, Bill can see in the distance, is running for his life and distinctly, the smell of piss fades away so Bill knew it was him that was the biggest coward of them all, next to the leader, who Pennywise is currently holding onto.

He's covered in blood, the entire clown suit dirty with blood, guts, what Bill can swear is an actual human tooth, and it's almost mangled. He's grinning at Bill, eyes yellow again instead of angry red as he holds the leader's face in both hands.

"Well, Billy?" Pennywise says as Bill stands up.

"Well, what?" Bill asks, not even aware that he's not stuttering.

The leader is crying now, openly sobbing and begging for his life.

"Aren't you going to finish him?" Pennywise asks and the leader cries out, the smell of fear almost choking Bill's senses.

Bill stares at him, confused.

"I thought... y-you w-w-wanted him," Bill said.

Pennywise's grin grew.

"I'm not opposed to _sharing_ , Billy," Pennywise giggled.

"C'mon man... just let me go... it was just a bunch of faggots..."

Bill's anger comes back. It was just two _faggots_ to him and his pals, but to Adrian and his boyfriend, it was their lives. They could've killed Adrian from the fall alone if Pennywise hadn't gotten to him, or he could've drowned. Who the hell was he to decide that they didn't deserve to live?

Pennywise tosses the guy onto the ground and he openly sobs and Bill hates him. He's worse than Patrick Hockstetter or Victor Criss or even Belch Higgins. Worse than Bowers and Bill hates him. He _hates_ him.

"Fuck you," Bill says and he kicks the guy in his bloodied face, taking satisfaction in hearing the sound of his nose crunching and breaking.

The guy cries out in pain.

"C'mon! Please!" he begs. "Bill, right? C'mon, just let me go!"

"Fuck you," Bill repeats, kicking him in the ribs just as he had done to Adrian. "Fuck you! Fuck you!"

He's sure he can hear cracking amidst the sound of the man crying out and screaming but he can't find himself caring and honestly, he'd admit later to being surprised that his tiny foot could do so much damage unless there was more than what met his eye and there certainly was. Not that Bill realized that, of course.

"FUCK YOU!"

All of his ribs are broken and Bill doesn't even care. He just keeps kicking him even as blood splatters on the pavement along with teeth and even gums. His kicks aren't even organized, he'll hit the man's face or his sides and wherever he can. He wants to see him die, tear into his flesh and break his bones and watch his blood spew out of his body and splatter everywhere. Yet, to Bill's surprise, the man fights back and actually hits him and it reminds him so much of Bowers that he hates the man even more and even as the man grabs hold of Bill's body, trying to pull himself up and fight back, probably beat Bill to death in response, he doesn't even get the chance once his neck is level with Bill's face. Bill's not even aware of what he's doing until he's already done it, his vision red and his mind blank aside from anger and bloodlust.

Teeth sink into flesh and Bill feels something hot and wet splatter onto his mouth as he feels something slimy and gross in between his teeth and in his mouth and then he hears the sound of something wet splattering and then he hears gurgling, like someone choking on water. Or blood.

Bill freezes when he hears thudding against the pavement and sees the man, broken and beaten and bloodied, missing a few teeth, his ribs definitely broken instead of just cracked or bruised, and a giant gaping hole in his throat. Bill begins to choke and vomits at once, spitting out the large chunk of flesh he'd torn out of the man's throat with his own teeth almost like he was Pennywise or just some rabid animal and he vomits as he begins to cry, salty wet tears sliding down his cheeks and he can't help but vomit on the guy at the same time.

"Well, Billy," Pennywise's voice says even as Bill keeps puking, on his hands and knees, not even caring that the palms of his hands are getting scratched on the bloodied pavement. The smell of blood and death wasn't even as bad as the _taste_ of it.

"I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised," Pennywise says and Bill looks up, trembling and the part of his face that isn't covered in blood is whiter than Pennywise's face paint, whiter than death.

His eyes are wide, his pupils blown and almost taking up his entire iris and he's shaking all over, his mouth and chin covered in blood and his shirt is splattered with it. He feels like a rabid animal and sick to his stomach. It looks like a gruesome crime scene, worse than anything in the horror movies Bill used to see with Richie. Bill can see the _bones_ inside of the gaping wound in the guy's neck, having bitten that deeply and he vomits again.

Pennywise is on his knees then and Bill is sobbing. He not only just beat a man, even an asshole gay-basher, but killed him with his bare teeth like some kind of rabid animal or a monster. Gay-basher or not, he just killed a man and doesn't feel like he's any better than Pennywise. Said clown takes a gloved hand and lifts Bill's chin up, wiping away the vomit but not the blood, which is all Bill can taste, more than his own sick. Pennywise is smiling at him and Bill's heart and stomach are doing strange knots, and not just because he knows he swallowed the blood and probably the flesh.

It reminds him of before his accident that made him constantly stutter and fight to speak. It reminds him of his dad, even if it's a clown's face with blood on it. Proud. That's the word Bill can think of. It's an expression of pride.

"I killed him," Bill croaks, tears in his eyes.

"Would've killed you if you hadn't, Billy," Pennywise says and while Bill knows that, the guilt gnaws at his stomach like a dog chewing a bone.

Bill cries, shoulders racking with sobs as Pennywise takes his chin and kisses him and it's almost like a kiss between lovers instead of a dominant kiss. Bill realizes the clown isn't just taking the kiss and dominating it, he's waiting for Bill to respond as he gently pecks the teen's bloodied lips.

Bill sniffles but can't help himself. It's a source of comfort, albeit a gruesome and disturbing one, but he can't help it. He returns the kiss, acutely aware of the clown's arousal and he sighs into the kiss, fully aware that the feeling of blood sliding against his skin and the taste of it should be disgusting, but he actually enjoys this kiss. It was a nice kiss.

He trembled when he felt a hand cupping his groin and whimpered into the kiss. He knew he should've seen that coming.

**********

Mike knew immediately that the radio call was related to Pennywise, somehow it had to be. Derry was naturally full of dangerous people, like any other town, but Derry particularly the worst. Immediately he knew it posed a risk for awakening the monster that had lurked in his dreams, almost like it was under his bed or even in his closet, and plagued his memories and turned his dreams into nightmares. It was a gay-bashing and surprisingly, Adrian Mellon and his boyfriend, Don Hagarty, were both alive.

That sounded oddly strange, especially for a place like Derry. The violent and criminal act was punishable by law, and Adrian was planning on pressing charges if they caught the people who did it, but then one of the cops came forward with his face covered in puke and even Adrian and Don looked afraid at what had happened even if they weren't responsible for it. And thankfully, Mike thought, the police knew neither one of the men were at all capable of such a horrible act and had no time to do it either.

The four men, well three men and kid, who had attacked them and thrown Adrian over the bridge and into the river were all dead. All four of them. That was what Mike had been expecting, but it was so strange to hear especially considering that by the description of the body parts, he knew it was Pennywise. And he described it as body parts because that's what the officer described. Not a single body was fully intact.

Limbs, fingers, intestines, insides, organs, you name it, it was outside of the body and on the ground. However, only three of the bodies were dismembered and disemboweled, but what the Sheriff was declaring an animal attack, which Mike knew he was full of shit but what else could've done that? Honestly, though, he thought it kind of sad that the Sheriff was either so influenced by Pennywise's power or denial that he would describe it as a bear attack.

"Sheriff, the other three have animal bites..." the EMT said carefully, also looking ready to spew his breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

"So?" the Sheriff said gruffly, not looking much better.

The EMT lifted the fourth body, who Adrian described as the little leader of the bashers and Mike recognized him by the description of the hair and despite having seen what Pennywise could do personally, including seeing him eating Ed Corcoran's arm, he felt sick as well.

"Every one of his ribs is broken... it was personal but..." the EMT stops himself and the Sheriff does puke them.

Human teeth marks are in the man's throat, looking like they tore out his Adam's apple, and Mike can see bloodied bones in the neck from how deeply he was bitten and he frowns. Why would Pennywise, terrorizer, and devourer of children and apparently young adults, kill the bashers instead of just all of them? Not only that, but Adrian would've been the easier prey.

Despite not being an actual officer, and lying about being FBI, Mike approaches Adrian and Don, both who look shaken and both are sporting broken noses, but relatively unharmed even if one is soaking wet and the other's feet are also sopping.

"Could you tell me what you saw?" Mike can't help but ask, curiosity getting the better of him but this time he was just confused.

Adrian shakes his head. "All I saw was some guy... dressed as a clown... he... he saved me..." was all he said.

Mike frowns. That doesn't at all sound like the Pennywise he knew.

"Did he have a white suit? White gloves? Orange hair and a white face with red lines from his eyes to his lips?" Mike asks.

Adrian nodded and Mike's frown deepened.

"Did he have... yellow eyes?" Mike asked.

"Yeah... a friend of yours? Tell him I said thanks," Adrian said but then Don is frowning.

"He had a kid with him," he said and Mike stared at him.

He could be talking about a number of kids, literally probably millions of kids who lived in Derry over the years. Over the centuries and even millennia. It might not be who Mike was thinking it was... But at the same time, it could very well be...

"A kid?" Mike asks, slightly afraid of the answer.

"Yeah, looked like a teen... like a young kid... reddish hair... blue eyes... white shirt... black sleeves... really pissed off..." Don says and Mike freezes.

"Did he have a stutter?" he asks at once, not even caring about the angry look he was receiving from the Sheriff and his fellow officers and the confused ones from the couple.

"No? He just... wanted the clown to go after the assholes... not Adrian..." Don says and Adrian takes his hand.

"I should've kept quiet..." Adrian says quietly.

"It's alright... we'll be leaving Derry anyway... we aren't coming back..." Don says, pressing a kiss to Adrian's temple.

Mike nods, unable to stop himself.

"Get as far away from Derry as you possibly can," he says.

"Will do," Adrian says, snuggling into his boyfriend's embrace.

"Good luck to you, both of you," Mike says sincerely.

He means it, but now everything has changed. Did Pennywise... _not_ kill Bill? But... why wouldn't he? The only logical thing Mike can think of is that Pennywise wanted to keep Bill around to torture him longer... but make him kill a bunch of gay bashers? Mike knows immediately that Bill was probably reminded of Bowers and his bullying and this is an example of what Bowers almost became, had Mike not shoved him down into the well in Neibolt all those years ago. And why would Pennywise listen to anything Bill has to say?

Mike supposes that it's because why kill Adrian, one guy when you could kill four people, one of them a kid, and have four meals instead of one? The sickest part is, the thought that makes Mike's insides clench, is that the teeth marks in the leader's neck were indeed human teeth and his injuries were caused by blunt force. Pennywise wouldn't have bothered, he would've used the sharp teeth he always used and devoured him whole... there were no other injuries on that man. Mike shivers as he thinks about his friend and he regrets leaving now more than he ever has in the past twenty-seven years. Mike jumps when he sees a red balloon floating above their heads, but nobody else, not even Adrian or Don, seems to take notice.

Instead of saying _I ♥ Derry_ , it said _Congratulations!_ on it and Mike wasn't sure what he was being congratulated on, or even if the balloon was for him. Or Adrian and Don. Or for _Bill_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism is always appreciated  
> \- I honestly couldn't write the bashing scene. Or at least, the gay-bashing scene. For that, I am not sorry and I will admit, tears were shed when I saw that part even if I knew it was coming because I read the book  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Well, there's smut in this chapter. It's also heading deeper into the second movie but obviously there are major differences

Bill isn't in a catatonic state as he sits on Pennywise's lap, his hair being petted by a gloved hand like some sort of pet, but he's frozen as his mind replays the memory of killing that man. Technically speaking, in a single night, Bill is responsible for the deaths of four people, one of them a kid, instead of just one person, even if they were four gay-bashers, attempted murders, and an innocent man. And for all Bill knows, they could've tried to kill Don too so instead of two dead people, there's four of them, one of them just some bratty kid.

And their blood is on Bill's hands, just like Georgie, and one of them is all over him, his clothes completely ruined, more than before, and his mouth is covered in blood. The sickest part, worse than the fact that Bill killed a man by beating him to death with just his foot, worse than the fact that what killed the man was Bill's bear teeth, biting out his throat like some sort of rabid animal or monster, was that Bill _enjoyed_ it.

For a brief moment, when he was caught up in a twisted sense of righteous fury and bloodlust all in one, he enjoyed the feeling of his teeth sinking into that man's flesh, tearing it open and he had enjoyed the feeling of blood spraying all over him, hot and sticky, and even sicker was that unconsciously, ever since being brought back from the bridge and into the sewer, Bill had been licking his teeth that were still covered in blood and bits of flesh were trapped between them.

For a moment, Bill had enjoyed that smell of fear that had come from those three men and that kid, enjoyed the sweet smell and thought of it as a dessert. As something to eat. It was like he was Pennywise, or could understand why Pennywise ate people for that smell and that taste.

Bill hated himself for being responsible for the deaths of now five people, his little brother, the most important and worst of them all, and now four other people even if on some level, they had it coming. More than Adrian and his boyfriend did, that's for sure, but it doesn't change the fact that Bill helped Pennywise take away three lives, four if you counted Georgie (even if that one was not intentional and never would be), and Bill personally took away one himself.

Worse than killing the people was taking comfort in Pennywise's kiss and returning it, acting as though he hadn't just committed a horrible crime and Pennywise hadn't licked Bill's teeth for the blood that stained them and the bits of flesh caught between them.

Worse than even that was that Bill had enjoyed that expression on the clown's face. It was like Pennywise had been _proud_ of him for killing that man, but Bill figured that he was mostly just happy to have four meals instead of just one for his big return. Pennywise, in the long run, benefited most of all from this entire event.

He got to torture Bill even further, and he got four for the price of one. Or two. Either way, Pennywise was the only person who got to be happy after all of that. The point was, for a moment, Bill had been enjoyed someone being proud of him. His dad hadn't been proud of him in a long time and his mother ignored him, it was almost refreshing. Even if it was Pennywise.

The clown also had a full belly, for now at least, and tortured the kid that had for a brief moment, twenty-seven years ago, scared him. Now Bill was alone, and he was the only one who was scared now. His friends were gone and he was left alone to live with the clown until it got sick of him and killed him, eating him just the same as all the other kids in Derry and those gay-bashers. Pennywise hummed in his ear, making a sound akin to a purr and Bill flinched.

Bill knows it wasn't self-defense when he bit that man's throat out. Bill had been kicking him like he had kicked Adrian, bashing him until there was nothing but blood, broken bones, and death. The man had tried to lunge at him, tried to attack him, and Bill had killed him for it. He was an asshole, worthless and almost a murderer, even if Pennywise would've been the one to finish Adrian off, but it was still a life that wasn't Bill's to take. Pennywise killed the other three, but Bill had still done something unforgivable. In Bill's mind, he wasn't much better than Pennywise was.

Bill whimpers as he feels Pennywise's hand sliding down his face and take hold of his chin, holding his head in place. He's sitting on the clown's lap, almost like a kid telling Santa what they want for Christmas, but instead, Bill's back is against the clown's chest, the puffballs digging into his back and they are both bloodstained, surrounded by shitty Derry water, broken and bloodied toys, along with mangled body parts from dead children from all over Derry. Bill trembles as he feels Pennywise's other hand slide down his belly and Bill whimpers as Pennywise undoes the button of his jeans.

If Bill was honest, he wasn't really sure why the clown had bothered to dress him if this was what he was planning on doing after his... hunt. A dark thought passes in Bill's mind at that moment, one that makes him quiver with fear and it makes Pennywise grin sadistically, pleased. The clown got more entertainment by torturing Bill this way, using him as a sex toy and making him kill people, and while Bill isn't sure on how often Pennywise did this, he knows that for Pennywise, he's quick and easy. He was basically getting free sex and eventually a free meal. A show and then dinner. Bill feels ready to cry again as he considers the fact that Pennywise might not kill him at all. He might just decide to keep him around for a few million years, or all of eternity, as a sex toy.

Pennywise chuckles in his ear and Bill knows that's his answer. Bill knows there's not going to be an eventual end to this, unless, by some chance, some miracle for Bill, Pennywise gets bored of him.

"Not going to happen, Billy boy," Pennywise says and Bill shakes with both fear and anticipation, both making the clown pleased with himself.

"You know, Billy," Pennywise says and Bill's stomach fills with dread. His insides twist with fear and angst, afraid of what's coming. "I believe you owe me something," he says.

Bill frowns. _Fine, Billy, but you owe me._ Pennywise's voice echoes in his head even though the real thing is right behind him. Bill doesn't regret saving Adrian's life, though it still is confusing and weird to consider the fact that Pennywise bothered. He could've killed Adrian along with his boyfriend and even the bashers, getting six meals instead of just four. But he didn't. Bill didn't regret saving Adrian and probably the boyfriend, but he knew he was going to pay a price he wasn't going to like. He just knew it.

He trembles as he watches Pennywise's hand undo his jeans and a second hand helps pull them off, shredding them completely in the process. They were frayed and ready to fall apart before, and now they're completely gone, leaving him only in his underwear and Bill's thighs quiver as Pennywise's hands slide up and down them, rubbing the outsides and massaging the insides. At the same time though, there's still a hand holding Bill's face and keeping it still.

More hands seem to form from the clown as Bill's underwear are pulled down, his legs shaking as they're removed from his person and Bill flushes as his bottom half is revealed. The clown had already seen it, Bill knows that, but it doesn't help his embarrassment. He never even got to go through puberty and hopefully get bigger. He's embarrassed and the fact that the clown has already seen him naked doesn't help, it makes it worse.

"Still so tiny," Pennywise purrs in his ear and Bill's face grows hot and then warm, redder than his hair. He's embarrassed and ashamed.

Bill jerks and yelps as he feels an arm slither around his waist, the gloved hand attached taking hold of his cock and at once he tries to grab it or slap it away, not wanting to be touched, but two more arms snake around his torso and the gloved hands attached to them take hold of his wrists, their grip tight and painful, and they pull his arms up and hold his hands by his head. His legs are spread by the lower hands as the hand around his cock starts stroking him and he trembles at the feeling.

"Puh-puh-puh-puh-" Bill stutters, struggling to speak and beg him to stop.

"Puh-puh-puh," Pennywise mocks him, continuing to play with Bill's lower half.

Bill whines as he feels two more hands sliding up his bloody shirt, massaging his sides as they go, and they start touching his chest, fingertips grazing his nipples before taking hold of each one, rolling them between the thumbs and index fingers and he shakes as he feels the blunt head of Pennywise's cock against his rim.

His ears grow hot and red as he feels another hand against his belly, his shirt riding up from the clown's arms underneath and exposing it and to Bill, it feels weird. His breathing hitches as he feels the head of Pennywise's cock, monstrous in size already, pushing into him and he whines in pain and embarrassment as it goes in, the stretch burning and he _likes_ it.

He likes the feeling of the cock spearing him open, just as monstrous in size as before and in his nightmares inside of the Deadlights. Like before, it stretches him open, spearing into him and he likes it. He can _feel_ Pennywise's grin as the clown's cheek touches his, the smell of peanuts, cotton candy, popcorn, and death all rolled into one.

"Just a little slutty boy, aren't you, Billy?" Pennywise chuckles in Bill's ear, his voice low and husky and it sends a hot shiver down Bill's spine as his cock swells in the clown's hand.

" _My_ little slut," Pennywise groans as his cock fills Bill and stretches the teen open, filling him up and Bill moans again, unable to stop himself, when he feels it brush against his innermost spot, his sweet spot, and yet Bill notices that something feels different than before.

Realistically, Bill knows no human cock, not even the best porn stars Richie always talked about, could have such a huge cock. But that's not what feels odd and different, it feels inhuman, more than just size. Bill can feel something swelling at his rim, touching his skin and it feels hot like flesh but it's not _normal_. Pennywise just chuckles again, clearly knowing something Bill didn't.

"I said you owe me, Billy," Pennywise says and a strange sense of foreboding pools in Bill's gut, even as the heat from the pleasure courses through him, one of the hands still stroking his cock, two more playing with his chest, a fourth massaging his belly and pressing against the cock inside of him, making Bill whine and squirm at the feeling, and the others hold his thighs apart and his arms above his head.

Bill kicks out when it feels as though that piece of flesh is going to snag on him and at once two more hands appear, each one taking a hold of his ankles and he's held in place as a tentacle slithers up his shoulder and strokes his cheek before rubbing against his lip. Pennywise begins fucking into him then, another hand playing with his hair again, petting him, and his thrusts are more brutal than before.

They're much more rough and animalistic, and the hands holding onto Bill's limbs and body move him up and down without rhythm, slamming him down onto Pennywise's cock and each time it hits Bill's sweet spot, sending sparks through him and he can't help but cry out in pain and moan like the perfect whore. _Pennywise's_ whore, Bill thinks for a brief moment.

Bill feels that strange piece of flesh touching him every time Pennywise slams into him and it feels like it's going to catch on his rim and in Bill's quickly fogging mind, he doesn't care. He wants to feel it against his skin, in his body. He wants to feel it. He wants it.

The tentacle continues rubbing on his lip as Bill moans, each thrust of the clown's hips sending that monstrous cock into Bill's sweet spot, and yet somehow, in a way Bill can't explain, it feels better than before. Better than when Pennywise took his virginity and even better than the nightmare inside the mirror house.

It's like his senses have been turned up, his cock already twitching and throbbing, swelling with heat and dripping with pre-cum. He squirms in the clown's hold, wanting to cum already but the hand grips him tightly even as it keeps stroking him and Bill whines at being denied.

"Such a wet little hole and still so tight... almost like a virgin..." Pennywise grunts in his ear and Bill whines again, his limbs shaking in the clown's holds as he squirms.

Bill feels so full, his insides stretched tight over Pennywise's monstrous cock. Bill moans, over and over, unable to stop himself. They quickly turn sharp and high in pitch, desperate as his breath stutters, his eyes cloudy and he arches into the hands holding him. He ruts into the hand as the clown fucks into him, the sounds amplified and it makes Bill cry out. He can hear the little bells of the clown suit jingling as he hears the hottest and dirtiest of wet sounds as the clown's hips slam into Bill's bottom, the fabric of the suit scratching Bill's sweaty skin.

Bill whines as the heat pools in his belly, his cock aching and straining, flares with heat and he wants to cum. The hand is still stroking him, but it's refusing to let him cum. The glove is soft against Bill's flesh and it makes him want more. His body feels overwhelmed and like it's taking too much, but he likes it and it feels like he wants _more_.

The tentacle slides against his lip and Bill shivers, feeling like he wants to taste it. To have it in his mouth and as if on command, it slides in and Bill can't help but lick at it, his tongue sliding against it and he hears Pennywise growl low behind him as the tentacle pushes into Bill's mouth, the teen moaning around it.

The monstrous cock twitches inside of him, almost scalding hot inside of Bill's small body, burning inside of him and Pennywise never fully pulls out. He slides in and out easily, ramming into Bill and making him clench down. Bill's entire body is shaking, but it's not from fear, it's not from pain, and not out of anticipation. It's out of spiking pleasure as he's teased mercilessly from all ends, his body played with like some sort of toy or instrument. It's actually more like an instrument, the clown knowing all of his sensitive areas and playing him easily, his moans, even muffled with the tentacle in his mouth, are high pitched and strung out, wanton and begging. His body is the instrument, and Bill's moans are the music.

Pennywise yanks his head back, the tentacle sliding out of Bill's mouth and Bill laments the loss, whining as Pennywise turns his head and kisses him, swallowing Bill's moans and taking over his mouth, his own tongue sliding in and dominating Bill's.

Bill jerks when he feels a weird sensation. It feels like something is nudging against his rim and he jolts with fear and excitement and Pennywise grins into the kiss. Bill throws his head back, breaking it, leaving his neck on display and the clown purrs. The sharp sting of teeth on Bill's neck doesn't surprise him, he expected it and even _wanted_ it.

Bill jerks and whines as he begins to beg, wanting to cum. He doesn't even care that he's actually babbling, incoherently or not, begs to have the clown _let_ him cum, as though the clown owns him and actually tells him what to do.

Sharp teeth sink into Bill's flesh and Bill squeals at the feeling, the sting painfully euphoric and he moans at the feeling of blood, his own blood, sliding across his skin, soiling his shirt further and ruining him even more. Bill throws his head back into Pennywise's shoulder as the hand finally lets him cum, his moans heavy and high, strung out and needy.

He paints his belly and the hand on his belly white with his release, sweat beading down his temples as he gasps and tries to catch his breath. He unintentionally clenches down on the monster cock inside of him and a deep groan was his only warning before he felt the cock twitching hotly inside of him, Pennywise's hips pressed against his bottom, his cock deep as it could go, and the flesh is shoved into Bill's body as well, the girth of it just shy of too large to push in.

"O-oh!" Bill cries out when the flesh begins to swell.

Pennywise grunts, all of his hands and their grips turning painfully bruising and yet in Bill's twisted mind, he likes the feeling of being held, being claimed, and Pennywise knots Bill. He's claiming the teen, not that Bill knows that. Not yet anyway, and the knotting has Billy shuddering, his insides squeezing down and practically milking his cock for every last drop as he fills the teen up, the knot swelling and locking them together.

"W-wh-what i-is--?" Bill tries to ask but he's out of breath, his little chest heaving up and down.

Pennywise just grins, his eyes his favorite ominous yellow as his release fills Bill up and his knot keeps him in place, more than just his many hands do.

"My _knot_ , silly Billy," Pennywise purrs in his ear, knowing something Bill didn't.

Bill is confused, Pennywise can tell, but that's not what's important right now. Pennywise sighs contentedly as he presses his forehead into Bill's tiny shoulder, satiated for now as he stays locked inside of Bill's tiny body, continuously filling him up, pumping him full of Its seed. The hand on his belly never moves even as his other hands and their grips, around Bill's wrists and legs, thighs and neck, lessen.

Bill's entire body aches, a dull and painful but good ache, and the teen is actually basking in the aftermath. Pennywise hums in his ear, purring almost like a cat, his many hands running over each and every inch of Bill's body.

It quite liked the picture Bill had painted just hours before. Having kicked that basher until his ribs cracked and broke, knocking his teeth and even his gums out of his mouth, and finally biting out the basher's throat and killing him instantly. That had actually been surprising, the part with the biting. So soon for Billy to start changing.

The reason, It knew, was because Billy hated people like that because it was the exact same thing Henry Bowers would've done along with his little gang and while Pennywise doesn't care about that, he liked seeing Bill grow angry and full of bloodlust, painted like an artist's canvas with the blood of his victim. He knows the old Bill, self-righteous and desperate to find his little brother and avenge his death, is long gone.

He died twenty-seven years ago when Pennywise claimed him for the very first time, and this new Bill as the start of something very beautiful. Twisted, but beautiful. His Billy was changing, not that the boy realized that now, but he would. Soon enough.

Pennywise's grinned again. He rather liked the sound of that. _His_ Billy. _His_ little slut. Nobody would be taking _his_ Billy away from him. Not Mikey, not Beverly, not Ben, not Richie or Eddie, and certainly not Stanley Boy. Pennywise's grin grew as he rutted into Billy, relishing in the wanton little sounds his Billy made.

Only Mikey, at the moment at least, had an idea that Billy was still alive. It knew Mikey would be calling the other Losers and would be hoping that they'd come back, even if Stanley was a little coward and responsible for Billy's current predicament.

Pennywise would admit that for the past twenty-seven years, he did miss the other Losers, craved them as he dreamt of them. He had his Billy, but killing the other Losers would be an enjoyable experience. Better than the nightmares he showed Billy and Beverly.

Though, he's honestly not sure where Stanley's future lies. In a bloodied bathtub, his wrists slit, or in a dirty sewer, a gaping hole in his chest. Pennywise chuckled. If Mikey was going to bring back six, though probably really only five, friends, then Pennywise was going to be bringing back at least one of his own. The fun was just getting started.

**********

Mike sighs as he dials the first number in his phone book. He figures that if things would've been different twenty-seven years ago, the first number he'd be calling would be Bill's. The guilt eats at him as he presses the dial button for the fifth time that night, already picturing in his mind the order of who he is going to call. Saving the worst for last.

"Should I just book it?" Patty asks. "You're sure you can get away from work?"

"It's summer, why not?" Stan says as he continues with his puzzle. He smiles lightly as he hears the click of the keyboard.

"Okay, we are Buenos Aires-bound," Patty says happily.

Stan finds his missing piece on the floor, his phone ringing immediately after and a strange feeling erupts almost like a volcano inside of his chest when he sees that it's a Maine number.

"Stanley Uris speaking," he says, answering it, a sense of foreboding sending goosebumps over his skin.

"It's Mike," Mike says.

"I'm sorry?" Stan says, clearly confused.

"Mike Hanlon. From Derry," Mike repeats for the fifth time in one night.

"Mike," Stan says, remembering the name and the person almost immediately. "God, sorry. Yes, hi," he can't help but chuckle nervously, his emotions suddenly out of his control. He feels all sorts of strange emotions at once, namely fear and guilt. Regret and despair. He can't help but stammer, almost _stuttering_ , on his words. "I don't know why I didn't... How long's it been?" he chuckles awkwardly.

"A long time," Mike says, knowing Stan was feeling the worst.

He sincerely doubts anyone besides himself remembers exactly what they all did that summer, but he knows they're all feeling the exact same thing. It's almost instinctual even. Fear, of Pennywise, not that they know that yet, and guilt, because of what they did to Bill, not that they knew that yet either.

"27 years," he adds.

"It's come back, hasn't it?" Stan asks, much to Mike's surprise. "That's why you're calling me?"

"It's starting again, Stan. Bad things are happening," Mike says gently.

Stan begins to stammer, nearly stuttering just like Bill. "Did you call the others? I mean, what if they don't come?"

"We made a promise, remember?" Mike says, remembering that day all too well.

It had only been a little while after they'd left Bill, Stan's head was bandaged up and Eddie had the same cast on, and they had cut into their hands and made an oath to come back should It ever come back too. For Bill. Mike remembers Beverly being the one to stand up and tell them to swear that if It ever came back, they would too. But Mike knows deep down that if it hadn't been Beverly, that if things had gone differently, it would've been Bill asking them to swear on it and Bill definitely would've come back to Derry.

"How soon can you get here?" Mike asks.

"Um... Well, I..." Stan stammers. "Yeah, I would need to do a few things..."

Mike isn't sure if Stan is trying to avoid it but he knows that he has to say it. "Tomorrow. We don't have much time," Mike says, stopping Stan's stammering.

He can tell Stan is afraid and guilty, more than the rest of them.

"I'll text you everything you need," Mike says. "I'll see you soon, Stan the Man."

Patty is confused and a little worried, Stan can tell, but he brushes it off as a silly prank phone call and tells her he's getting into the tub. He says nothing else, afraid he'd be unable to. He can barely think, his heart beating with fear and it feels as though it's going to burst out of his chest like a cartoon, while his insides are clenching and unclenching, twisting and churning to the point of being nauseating with guilt that he can't fully understand. He didn't think MIke knew it, but he'd been really talking nonsense when he was on the phone. He could just barely remember being afraid of something as a kid when he knew Mike, and he remembers being so afraid of something that he had done something unforgivable and even now, he doesn't understand how he could've forgotten.

He gets into the tub, his breathing heavy, as he remembers a girl's face, her lips painted pink, freckles spotting her face, her hair short and red. He remembers seeing her lips moving.

"Do you swear?" she had asked and he had nodded.

"I swear, Bill," Stan says, his eyes hot with unshed tears.

For a brief second, instead of seeing the girl's face, her name something Stan can't remember but he's sure it started with a B, he sees the face of a teenage boy, his skin pale, his eyes blue, his hair sort of red and he's wearing a white shirt with blue sleeves, a small friendly smile on his face.

For a brief second, the boy's face turns into something more sinister, the friendliness gone. His skin turns white and chalky, looking like it had been painted white, his lips curving upwards into a grin and all of his teeth are monstrously sharp, his eyes turn paler blue and his lips are painted red, red lines running from the corners of his lips to his eyes and stopping just above his eyebrows. Like a clown.

Stan takes a hold of his razorblade, the edges sharp and perfect for this moment, the fear consuming his heart, but the guilt is eating away at his stomach. He presses the blade against his wrist, the fear making him want to slice his wrists and open up his veins and bleed out, slow and in a nice warm bath, but the guilt stops him.

He can hear children laughing inside of his head urging him to do it, to end his life, and that's what makes him afraid, but he can hear a boy, probably a preteen, urging him not to do it. Stan cries as he drops the razor blade, unable to do it. The fear makes him want to, more than anything, but the guilt stops him. Against better judgment, Stan decides he's going back to Derry. He has to go back. He just has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Sorry if this chapter was kind of short  
> \- I think you all know what the knot was about


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- So this Christmas was absolute Hell. How about the rest of you?  
> \- This is taken straight from the movie scene, because I have the digital copy now so yay!  
> \- Warning: No smut, slight differences(the major one being Stan instead of Bill)  
> \- I'll be having the next chapter up sooner than a month long wait. Special thanks to the 600+ people who leave kudos and the 60+ people who left comments that make me very happy when I see them. I honestly thought at the start of this, I'd be leaving it at a one-shot. There will be smut in the next chapter, so that's something to look forward to  
> \- I apologize beforehand if the writing in this chapter sucks since it's not as 'descriptive' or 'detailed' lol

Stan gets out of his car at the place Mike had texted him, the Jade of the Orient, a strange sense of foreboding in the pit of his gut. His guilt was even worse because Patty hadn't even been upset about purchasing the tickets for Buenos Aires, as much as she had been worried about him. He'd tried to explain that he had to go back to Derry, and prayed she wouldn't try and follow him. He'd told her he'd grown up there, and that he had family there, but that was all he could tell her. He could see it in her eyes, the worry and the fear, but had tried to forget about it. If she knew, if he had told her what little truth he could remember, she would've thought him insane and probably called 'someone' for 'help' and it wouldn't have ended well, Stan knew that. With a nauseous stomach, a clenching heart, and a heavy sigh, Stan walked into the building, which was rather nice considering it was in Derry.

The lady led him to the 'Hanlon Party' and the minute he saw Mike, he could remember bits and pieces, but it was still so fuzzy and even foggy. When he tried to remember _who_ exactly Mike Hanlon was, it was like a veil fell over his eyes.

"Hey," Mike said, leaving his spot next to the fish tank and to Stan's surprise, and maybe confusion, Mike hugged him.

"Mike... you... you look... good..." Stan says awkwardly, returning the hug.

"Stan," Mike greets, sounding vaguely surprised but happy nonetheless.

"Yup. Whoa," Stan says, memories slowly coming back to him. "Hey. How you doing?" he asks, still a little surprised.

Mike pulls away, looking surprised but still happy.

"I didn't know if any of you... _you_ especially..." Mike says, chuckling nervously. Stan can't really blame him, he's just as surprised that he bothered to show up either. "I mean, after all this time..." Mike says. "But... well, you came..." Mike says.

"You know, an oath is an oath," Stan says, still feeling awkward and nervous, jittery even. He's not sure if Mike notices it, but he doesn't say anything about it. But then his mouth says something that his mind, or his memories, hadn't even a chance to process fully before he's talking. "Losers gotta stick together, right?"

"The Losers," Mike says, grinning. "You remember that. That's good," he says, smiling. Then he turns serious. "What else do you remember?" he asks.

Before Stan can answer, they hear another voice speaking but it's not even the voice that's familiar as much as the... context of the sentence.

"I am allergic to soy, anything that has egg in it, uh, gluten, and if I eat a cashew I could realistically die," Eddie Kaspbrak walks in, looking at Mike and Stan with an expression they mimic easily. A mixture of surprise and recognition. "Holy shit," Eddie says as the employee walks away.

Outside, Beverly Marsh approaches the Jade of the Orient, a mix of emotions bubbling inside of her. Confusion and fear, because of returning to Derry and how Mike knew about the scar that suddenly reappeared on her hand, and fear of what's to come if she ever goes back to Tom. At that last thought, she stops before she enters the door, the fear taking over her thoughts. What was he going to do if she went back, which she probably would? He'd be mad, worse now because she'd fought back and hit him, and it'd be worse than last time even though she never cheated on him and she didn't plan to cheat on him with Mike.

"Is there a password or something?" an unfamiliar voice asks and she turns around, seeing a handsome man with dark hair, slightly graying, and a kind looking face standing right behind her.

"I'm sorry," she says on instinct.

The man smiles a little. "The new kid," he says.

She looks at him, confused, as the fear starts ebbing away and its replaced with recognition and even happiness.

"Ben?" she asks.

He nods, his smile growing. "Yeah," he says.

She can't help it, she starts smiling too as she approaches him and they hug. "Oh, my God," she says, grinning.

"Oh, my God," Ben says. "It's been so long."

She chuckles as she remembers signing his yearbook, writing _Bev Marsh_ and leaving two little hearts under her name. She even remembers that on that last day of school, she had been the only one to sign it so far. She remembers that. She even remembers what she'd said to him. "Stay cool, Ben from soc class," and even what Ben had said to her.

"You too, Beverly," he'd said, looking so happy to have somebody sign his yearbook.

"Hang tough, new kid on the block," she'd said as she'd walked away, remembering how he'd liked New Kids on the Block.

"Wow," another unfamiliar voice says and Beverly and Ben break up their hug and turn to see the person that is definitely Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier as an adult. "You two look amazing," he says. "What the fuck happened to me?" he asks. "What's going on, man?" he says, approaching.

"Hey, man," Ben says.

"It's Richie. Hi," Richie says.

"Yeah. It's Ben," Ben says, getting the first hug as they both start laughing.

"Hi," Richie says, turning to Beverly.

"Hey," Beverly says, remembering Richie as she hugs him.

Of course, Richie had to ring the gong after they met up with three more men in the restaurant.

"This meeting of the Losers' Club has officially begun," Richie says.

"Look at these guys," the guy in the red jacket says and they're all feeling the same thing, confusion on who is who.

Richie can't help himself. "Ben," he mouths, pointing at Ben and then putting his hands on his stomach and spreading it out and pointing again, smiling innocently when Ben turns to look at him.

They all cheer as they sit down and start talking about their lives, and of course, Richie can't help but pick on Eddie.

"So, wait, Eddie, you got married?" Richie asks.

Eddie immediately turns defensive. "Yeah, why's that so fucking funny, dickwad?"

"What? To, like, a woman?" Richie asks.

"Fuck you, bro," Eddie says, even waving the chopstick at him.

Richie just laughs. "Fuck you!"

Stan jumps in then, "All right. What about you, Trashmouth? You married?"

"There's no way Richie's married," Beverly says at once.

"No, I got married," Richie says seriously.

"Richie, I don't believe it," Beverly says.

"When?" Ben asks.

"Did you not hear this?" Richie asks seriously.

"No," Eddie says.

"You didn't know I got married?" Richie asks, even looking a little offended.

"No," Eddie repeats, looking faintly surprised.

"Yeah, no. Me and your mom are very, very happy right now," Richie says and Stan spits his drink back into his cup, laughing. Then they all start laughing, except Eddie of course. They all should've seen that one coming from a mile away.

"Yeah, very happy," Beverly says, still laughing.

"He totally fell for it!" Stan laughs.

"Fuck you," Eddie says, looking unimpressed.

"She's very sweet. Sometimes, she'll put her arm around me, and she'll whisper to me, she'll go..." Richie says, and does a perfect imitation of Jabba the Hutt. Everybody, except Eddie, laughs again.

"We all get it. My mom was a great, big, fat person," Eddie says. "Hilarious. Hysterical," Eddie says, the sarcasm still endearing.

"Wait, let's talk about the elephant _not_ in the room... Ben," Richie says. "What the fuck, man?"

"Okay, okay. Obviously, I lost a few pounds," Ben says shyly.

"Lost a few pounds?" Richie asks.

"Yeah, no shit you lost a few pounds," Eddie says.

"You're, like... You're hot!" Richie says.

"That's true," Eddie adds.

"No, you're like every Brazilian soccer player wrapped up into one person. Gorgeous," Richie says, grinning.

"Leave him alone. You're embarrassing him," Beverly says, smiling lightly.

"Okay, okay, all right. Please, come on. Is Bill coming or what?" Ben asks and the atmosphere changes then.

"Bill," Eddie says quietly.

They all look at the empty seventh seat between Beverly and Mike. Richie, Eddie, Beverly, and even Ben all look confused and at the same time, like they remember who Bill was. Mike, on the other hand, holds a look of sadness and guilt. Stan's expression is one of fear and guilt at the same time, the look of someone who knows they've done wrong and is afraid of getting caught.

"Bill... Bill Denbrough..." Stan says quietly.

"Bill Denbrough... huh," Richie says. "Would've thought he'd show up. Stan's the pussy," Richie says.

"Gee, thanks," Stan says sarcastically.

"No problem, man," Richie says, grinning a shit-eating grin.

"Maybe he's late?" Eddie asks. "Besides, it's not like he was the one who basically performed surgery on you after Bowers cut you up," he says to Ben. "Holy shit! That's right," he adds, remembering that day.

That was the day they first _met_ Ben, because before he was just the new kid in Derry with a huge target on his back from Henry Bowers, the school bully. That was also when they first technically met Beverly Marsh, who was just rumored to be the school slut. Eddie remembers that.

"Please tell me you ended up becoming a doctor, Eds," Beverly says.

"No, I ended up becoming a risk analyst," Eddie says.

"Oh, that sounds really interesting. What does that entail?" Richie asks.

"Yeah, so I work for a big insurance firm and..." Eddie starts and Ben tries to hold in his laughter as Richie starts snoring and everyone, except Eddie and Richie, start laughing.

"Fuck you, dude. Fuck you," Eddie says, unimpressed.

"Was this job invented before fun?" Richie asks seriously.

"That's so not funny," Eddie says unhappily.

"It is funny," Richie says.

Eddie turns to Ben, seeing that he's still laughing. "What the fuck are you laughing at?" he snaps.

"I propose a toast to the Losers," Beverly says, raising her beer bottle.

The rest of the dinner carries on with lively chatter, Richie beating Eddie at arm wrestling and finally, after a long, happy dinner, the fortune cookies come.

"Thank you," Eddie thanks the waitress.

"Like, Rogan-Marsh, the thing Patty's always looking at, Rogan-Marsh?" Stan asks Beverly. "That's... that's huge," he says, grabbing his fortune cookie.

"That's our line. Me and my husband, Tom," Beverly says, unaware of how Ben starts staring at her sadly after she says that.

"How long have you been married?" Stan asks, genuinely curious.

"How long have you and _Patty_ been married, huh?" Richie asks, interrupting.

Stan is about to say, when Richie interrupts again.

"She hot?" he asks and there's a little laughter from Beverly and Eddie.

"Beautiful," Stan says, staring at Richie unhappily.

Stan then frowns, remembering a conversation like that from 27 years ago.

_"She hot?" Richie asks._

_"No, Richie. She's not hot! Her face is all... messed up..."_ Stan remembers saying.

His frown deepens as Richie turns back to Eddie and Mike, unaware of Beverly staring at him.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing. This is just..." Stan sighs. "Weird." he says.

"Yeah," Beverly says, frowning now.

"Just all this, all these memories, people that I don't even remember forgetting," Stan says, his frown deepening.

"I mean, it's weird, right?" Ben says, all eyes on him now. "Now that we're all here, everything just comes back faster and faster," he says, spinning his finger by his head. "I mean, all of it," he says.

Mike holds an unreadable expression, while Stan looks faintly guilty.

"Yeah," Beverly says quietly.

"Yeah, you know, when Mike called me, I threw up," Richie says. "Isn't that weird? Like, I got nervous. I got, like, sick and I threw up," Richie says, chuckling a little. "I feel fine now, I feel very relieved to be here with you guys," he says as he looks up, realizing everyone's staring at him now. "Why is everybody look at me like this?" he asks.

"When Mike called me, I crashed my car," Eddie says.

"Seriously?" Stan asks.

"Yeah," Eddie says.

"Shit, man, I hear you. I mean, my heart was literally pounding right out of my chest," Ben says.

"I thought it was only me," Beverly says.

Stan looks down at his hands.

"Stan?" Beverly asks.

"I felt... it was like pure..." he tries to say the word fear, and they all notice how he starts stuttering.

"Fear," Mike says for him. "And guilt," he adds as they all turn to look at him.

"It's fear. What you felt," Mike says, looking Stan in the eyes now. "And guilt," he adds.

"Why did we all feel like that, Mike?" Stan asks. "You remember something we don't, don't you, Mike?"

"Something happens to you when you leave this town," Mike says. "The farther away, the hazier it all gets. But me, I never left. So, yeah. I remember. I remember all of it," he says and then they all remember.

"Pennywise," Beverly says quietly, almost whispering.

"Oh, the fucking clown," Eddie says, breathing heavily as they all remember the fear of the clown.

"Pennywise," Richie says quietly.

"Mike, you said you wanted our help with something," Stan says. "What was that?" he asks, his eyes wide.

"There's an echo here in Derry that bounces back every 27 years," Mike says.

"What are you talking about?" Eddie asks, feeling the same thing Beverly, Richie, Ben, and Stan are feeling. Stan especially. The fear of Pennywise and the guilt, but that last one, at the moment, their memory his hazy.

Mike is quiet. "We could've stopped it," he says. "But we didn't," he says, looking at Stan. "We left..." he pulls out his book and opens it up to a page as Beverly whimpers. "A week ago, a man, Adrian Mellon, he was attacked by these... gay bashers," Mike says and Richie frowns. "They threw him over the bridge, three men and a kid. His boyfriend, Don Hagarty, said that a clown, identical to what Pennywise looked like, saved him," Mike says.

"Pennywise saving a gay guy getting bashed and thrown over the bridge?" Richie says, looking confused. "Does that sound wrong to anyone else?" he asks. Nobody answers, though Eddie gives a small, shaky nod.

"So what happened to the bashers, Mike?" Ben asks and Mike sighs.

"Three men, and a kid, all dead. The Sheriff tried to write it off as an animal attack," Mike says.

"Dumbass," Richie says.

"Yeah, but here's the thing. Three of the bodies, dismembered, slaughtered, disemboweled, _devoured_ ," Mike says and Beverly whimpers again. "But their leader, the guy who started it, he was beaten until there was barely any face left. Gums and teeth, knocked out, like he was kicked, repeatedly. But that's not what killed him," Mike shows Stan a picture and Stan almost throws up at the sight. There was a huge gaping hole in the man's throat, down to the bones, but it was in the shape of a small human mouth, with human teeth marks in the flesh. "A girl, Lisa Albrecht, the other night, said she met a clown and a boy, but the boy convinced the clown to just give her a balloon," Mike says.

"The fuck?" Richie says, confused as hell.

"There has already been others, and there will be more... so far, only four people have died but there will be more," Mike says as the group starts to protest.

"I don't want to hear about this shit," Richie says.

"He can't hold Pennywise back for long. There will be more death, more pain," Mike says.

"Calm down," Ben says.

"Let's get another drink," Stan says.

"Let him explain. Let him explain," Ben says. "Explain it to us, Mike," he says, pleadingly.

"That echo, it hasn't changed. Not since the last time you guys were here... it's still the same, but... there's something holding it back," Mike says.

"But if we didn't change it how does that work?" Ben asks.

Mike is quiet. He has a feeling, a hunch, a mere _theory_ , but he's not sure they can handle that right now. Stan especially. He has a theory that Bill is the one keeping Pennywise from hurting anyone else, for as long as he can, but he's still confused as to why Pennywise would even bother listening to Bill, and Mike still isn't even sure if Bill is dead or not or if he's now forever stuck as a preteen. The guilt eats away at him, because he left no differently than the rest of them. Second to go, right after Stan. But if Bill, even after all this time, can still try to save people, then they still have a chance to defeat Pennywise.

"27 years ago, we did change It... just like It changed us," Mike says, unable to go into details. "But we didn't stop It. Because It just bounced back," he says. "We made an oath. That's why I brought you back. That's why you're here. To finish It. For good," he says, looking at Beverly.

"Well, that shit got dark fast," Richie says. Mike doesn't have the heart to tell him it gets darker than that. "Thanks, Mike," he adds sarcastically as Eddie opens his fortune cookie.

"My fortune cookie just says 'Could'," Eddie says, sounding confused and annoyed.

Stan looks at his cookie, which only has one word on it.

"They don't know how to do fortune cookies here. Mine just says 'Guess'," Richie says.

"You wanna throw that over here?" Ben asks as he, Mike, Richie, Eddie, and Stan put their fortune cookies together, unaware of Beverly opening her own. They even miss the sharp intake of breath she takes and how she begins to tremble with fear as her eyes widen with guilt as she looks at not one, but two fortunes.

"What you got, Mikey?" Ben asks as the five of them look at the cookies.

"Wait, what?" Eddie asks as he stands up.

"This is what I'm talking about," Mike says heavily.

"Guess. With. Not. Could. It," Richie says.

"It's a message," Mike says, knowing now that Pennywise is aware that they're all back and while he's afraid, he knows they have a chance. They just have to have a chance.

"No, Guess with it could not?" Richie says.

Ben keeps rearranging the fortunes, unsure of how they go together but he's starting to become afraid again.

"Why would it guess it could not? With what?" Eddie asks, confused.

"With what?" Ben asks.

"Guess with it could not," Richie repeats.

"It could not guess," Eddie suggests as Ben and Stan keep rearranging them.

"When it says 'It' is it talking about It?" Eddie asks. "is that what it means?"

"That's what I'm talking about," Mike says.

The guys are starting to get afraid and annoyed all in one, their hearts beating in sync, not that they know that, with fear.

"I don't know what it fucking means!" Richie yells. "You fuck with the fortune cookies, Mike?" he asks.

"No," Mike says.

"Whoa. Let him speak, man," Ben says.

"This is not me. This is what It does," Mike says.

"I need my fucking inhaler!" Eddie shouts as Beverly stares at her fortunes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What is wrong with you, man? Why'd you call us?" Richie asks. "This is not fucking funny!"

"This is so not funny!" Eddie snaps.

"Beverly? Why do you have two?" Stan asks, noticing how quiet the redhead has been. Then they all notice, looking at her with confused and worried expressions.

She places her fortunes by Stan's hand, her breath shaky and her eyes pink and glassy, tears dripping from her chin and onto her shirt. Stan stills when he sees the name on the sixth fortune and the word on the seventh.

 _Bill._ And the word is _Deal_.

The men all gasp as Stan puts the fortune with Bill's name in the right spot rearranging the fortunes to spell out a single sentence.

 _Guess **Bill** Could Not **Deal** With It_.

Beverly puts a hand on her mouth as they all stare at the fortunes.

"Why does it say Bill?" Eddie asks. "Someone else fucking answer me!" Eddie yells.

Then, the fortune cookies start rattling.

"Holy shit," Eddie says as they back away from the table.

One of the cookies flies out of the bowl and Beverly yelps. It cracks open and they back away further, flinching.

"What the fuck is that, man?" Richie asks as the cookie cracks open entirely revealing a spider-like creature with a baby's head that is upside down before it turns upside right, little bug-like wings on its back, fluttering and buzzing. The baby squawks at them repeatedly as it quickly scurries over the table, knocking down the cups and bowls as it screeches at Mike.

They all start to panic, getting as far away from the table as possible as a second cookie flies out of the bowl and lands on the table.

"Shit," Richie says.

The cookie cracks open, revealing a giant eyeball with bloodied tentacles on the back of it.

"Hey! Hey! That fortune cookie's looking at me! Shit!" Richie shouts.

Beverly yelps as a third cookie cracks open, having a bat-like wing protruding out of the side.

"I don't want to be here. I can't fucking do this," Eddie says, feeling ready to start hyperventilating. "I wanna go home! I don't wanna be here! I don't wanna be here!" the cookie starts flapping at him and Ben. "Holy shit!"

"Hey! God damn it!" Richie says as the eyeball gets closer, looking right at him.

Both Eddie and Ben start screaming as the third cookie starts flying at them, almost as though it's trying to dive bomb them. Ben swats at it but misses every time.

"Hey, Eddie!" Richie says, his heart clenching and his stomach twisting.

The bowl suddenly fills with hot liquid that begins covering the table, almost like lava, as it begins burning the table and a small baby bird crawls over the table, squawking out. Mike feels as though something is looking at him and yelps when he turns to see rotting heads in the fish tank, blood filling the water.

"It's not real!" Mike yells and the baby screeches at him. "This isn't real! It's not real!" Mike repeats as he picks up a chair and starts beating the table with it. He hits the baby on the second hit, and it squawks in agony as its lower half is crushed and its insides spew out of its small body. "It's not real! It's not real!" Mike repeats, still hitting the table.

The waitress comes in after hearing the commotion and getting noise complaints, surprised to see five of the customers backed into separate corners and the sixth hitting the table with a chair.

"Is everything all right?" she asks and they all notice her, the nightmarish scene disappearing and returning to the normal dinner table.

"Yeah, yeah. Could we get the check?" Richie asks.

The waitress just stares as she turns around to go write up the check, and the damage bill.

The next minute, they all have their things and are leaving.

"That's what Pennywise does, right? He fucks with us. So, Bill's probably fine," Eddie says.

"Hey, Mike. Do you have Bill's number?" Beverly asks, pulling out her phone.

"No," Mike says honestly.

Only four of them turn to Mike, confused, while Stan stands quietly behind the group, thinking.

"What do you mean 'no'? You had all of our numbers," Ben says.

Mike sighs, ready to say it, even though it hurts him, but to all of their surprise, Stan speaks.

"Bill's dead," Stan says, his voice low and his eyes already pink and glassy, tears ready to fall.

The silence is awful, and yet even Richie can't break it, until a child's voice does.

"Hey, Richie," they all turn to see a little boy standing right behind Richie.

"How'd you..." Richie starts to ask but stops himself, fear building in the pit of his gut again. "How'd you know my name?" he asks.

"The fun's just beginning. Right?" the kid says in a rather creepy voice, and then grins rather creepily and continues staring at them creepily.

"What he said, is it..." Eddie starts to ask and he ducks behind Richie.

"Listen. You think this is funny?" Richie asks, pointing at the creepy kid. "All right? Think this is some sort of game, huh? Well, fuck you, all right?" he says, grabbing the kid's arm.

"Rich, be careful," Stan says.

"Fuck you! I'm not afraid of you!" Richie says, his heart beating rapidly against his chest, as though ready to burst out.

"'The fun's just beginning'," the kid repeats as Richie lets go of his arm. "The line from your act, dude. I'm a fan," the kid says as two adults and another small child walk up behind the kid.

"Are those your parents?" Richie asks.

"Yeah," the kid says, turning around.

"You want a picture?" Richie asks, his heart slowing down as he smiles awkwardly.

"You okay, Dean?" one of his parents ask. "Come on."

"I think I'm good," the kid says.

"Okay, cool. He's a good kid," Richie says.

"Jesus, Richie, you don't even remember a line from your own show?" Ben asks.

"I don't write my own material," Richie admits as they walk out of the restaurant.

Eddie perks up at that. "I fucking knew it! I fucking knew it!" he says angrily and smugly at the same time.

They stop in the parking lot, remembering what Stan had said.

"What do you mean, Bill's dead?" Ben asks Richie.

Beverly lowers her head, the memories of her nightmares coming back to her as Stan stays quiet.

"That got dark fast... again," Richie says.

"You mean darker than you yelling at a random kid? Hashtag, un-follow," Eddie says.

"He made it creepy," Richie says.

"Not a good defense, dude," Eddie says.

"You lied to us. That's not okay," Eddie then says, turning to Mike as Stan stands with Ben and Beverly, Ben trying to get answers out of him.

"Yeah, first words out of your mouth should have been like, 'Hey, man. You want to come to Derry and get murdered?' 'Cause then I would have said no," Richie says. "Fucking entrapment, man," he adds.

"What do you mean Bill is dead?" Ben asks and Richie and Eddie turn silent.

Beverly's lip trembles as Stan sighs.

"I'm going home," Stan says.

"I second that," Richie says.

"Third," Eddie adds.

Ben looks unhappy as Beverly says it quietly.

"We killed him," she says as she lights a cigarette, her hands shaking.

"Pennywise killed him. He knew... He knew before we did," Eddie says, not fully remembering.

"We have to stop him. I have a plan," Mike says.

"I got a plan. Getting the fuck out of Dodge before this ends in a really shitty way," Richie says. "Who's with me?" he asks, raising his hand and Eddie does too.

"We made a promise to each other," Mike says.

"Let's un-make the promise," Richie says.

"Richie, other people are gonna die," Ben says.

"Other people die every day, man!" Richie says, looking ready to start panicking. "We don't owe this town shit! Plus, I just remembered I grew up here, like, two hours ago. So, I'm fucking leaving. Fuck this," Richie says, heading to his car, Eddie following.

"I'm sorry, man, I'm with Richie," Eddie says.

"Eds, please," Mike says pleadingly.

"Listen. What? We stay, we die, that's it?" Eddie asks. "I'm gonna go back to the inn, I'm gonna pack up my shit, and I'm gonna drive to my home. I'm sorry, man. Good luck," Eddie says as Richie starts his car.

"No, Eddie. Please. Please, Eddie!" Mike begs. "Eddie, wait!"

Ben kneels down next to Beverly, seeing that she's shaking as she tries to smoke.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I'm gonna head back to the Town House, too," Beverly says as Richie pulls out. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah," Ben says quietly. "You should have told us, Mikey," he adds to Mike as he and Beverly walk away.

Mike sighs, turning to Stan, the only one left.

"Stan. Please, man," he begs, desperate now. "I'm begging you, please. Just listen to me, man. Please."

"What are you gonna say?" Stan asks. "What could you possibly say that would make any kind of a difference?" Stan asks. "They're all gone."

"Come on. Let me show you something. One thing. And if you want to leave, you can leave. Just let me show you this first. Please," Mike begs.

Stan frowns, tears streaming down his cheeks now.

"Why bother? There's only six of us left," Stan says quietly. "We killed Bill," he says.

"We can still beat him. Just let me show you," Mike begs.

"I want to go home," Stan says.

"You can. Just let me show you and then you can go home if you don't agree... please?" Mike begs.

Stan wants more than anything to just go home and be done with this, this entire thing one big regret alongside whatever it was he did to Bill all those years ago. But he still can't help himself, he goes with Mike, despite his fear making him want to leave. The guilt makes him go with Mike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Comments, kudos, and requests are always welcome and appreciated


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I said it'd be sooner than a month long wait, didn't I? ;)  
> \- Not sure when the next chapter will be up and Ohmygod this one took a while  
> \- Smut, obviously, as promised  
> \- Book references, blood and gore, clowns, oh my!

Bill trembles as he hears the spectators at the ball game start cheering, and he can hear some kid angrily yelling at the players.

"Lapskew! What kind of a name is that, huh? My mom swings better than you!" the kid says. "She doesn't even play baseball! You suck!"

And he can't help but briefly think of Richie, who would've said something similar, or more specifically, he would've insulted the player along with Eddie's mom. So, of course, Eddie would get pissed and then start swearing at him and then insult baseball because of all the health risks associated with it.

Bill shakes as he feels Pennywise's hands running all over him, petting his hair like he's some kind of pet, massaging his chest and running over his belly. Bill knew what was coming, even if he didn't like it, and he had the feeling that Pennywise wasn't going to be so lenient here as he was with Adrian and that Lisa girl. For whatever reason, one only the clown knew, It had saved Adrian and let Lisa go with only just a red balloon, per Bill's begging. With Adrian, It got to eat the three bashers and got to watch Bill kill the fourth. But with Lisa, Pennywise gained nothing. Because of that, Bill had a feeling that Pennywise was going to hurt somebody, no matter how much he begged.

Said clown currently had his back pressed against the inside of the bleachers, an open space that was only there because Pennywise made it that way for this specific... _hunt_.

Bill whimpered as his stomach rumbled with hunger. He hadn't a real meal in 27 years, even if he was asleep for that entire time, trapped in Its' Deadlights, and the only thing he'd come even remotely close to eating was the flesh of another human being, another person, even an asshole gay-basher, but then he'd thrown up. The point was, Bill was _starving_.

In his mind, the saner part of him wanted food. Human food (which meant something like pizza or ice cream, not what Pennywise would have in mind), but some monstrous part of him thought about how delicious the fear had smelled on those bashers, like a pure, rich meal or dessert and his mind drifted back to how the flesh had felt between his teeth, the tangy taste of blood on his tongue, and somehow, in some twisted part of his brain, it hadn't tasted so bad. Bill had been consumed with anger and blood lust when he'd killed the basher, he knew that, but the twisted part of his mind had decided it didn't taste bad, and wasn't a horrible act of _murder_ and _cannibalism_.

Pennywise chuckled and Bill trembled again. He hated that the clown could easily read his thoughts, every time he thought them.

"Cannibals are _humans_ who eat other _humans_ , Billy," Pennywise murmured in his ear, taking the lobe into his mouth and Bill tried to ignore the tingly pleasure he felt from that one little action.

Bill was about to ask what the fuck that sentence was also supposed to mean when he froze, hearing the voice of a little girl. The same one he'd heard in his nightmares in the Deadlights.

"Mommy, how much longer?" the little girl asked.

"Please..." Bill begged, not wanting to be part of this let alone do anything.

"Hush, Billy," Pennywise murmured and Bill could tell he was grinning that same predatory grin.

Pennywise wrapped one arm around Bill's upper body, pulling the teen closer so his back was against the clown's chest, his other arm wrapping around Bill's midsection, the hand attached resting on Bill's stomach, which rumbled with hunger in response, clenching painfully.

Bill wanted human food... food that humans ate, not another _human being_.

"Too bad, Billy," Pennywise said lowly, nearly growling.

"You're not even hungry," Bill spat, feeling his anger ebbing back along with the hunger pains.

"Says you, Billy boy," Pennywise said but Bill knew he wasn't wrong.

The clown had had those bashers, three of them, so Bill knew he couldn't be hungry. And if he really was, then he would've killed that Lisa girl too. And Bill also knew that if Pennywise was really hungry, then he would actually bother to eat the people instead of just taunt them. Now, it seemed more like Pennywise just killed for the pleasure of killing and the taste of fear.

Bill whimpered when he heard the mother start talking.

"Victoria, we came to watch the game. We're gonna watch the came," and Bill hated her too. If she'd just take Victoria home, maybe even bother to keep her eyes on her own kid, then Victoria wouldn't be in danger. Right now, that is.

"Please... not her... not her..." Bill begged and his traitorous stomach rumbled in protest and Bill whined as his insides seemed to clench down on themselves. _Hungry_.

"Shh," Pennywise whispered in his ear, licking the shell of it after.

Bill jerked and blinked when a firefly manifested into thin air in front of his face, the wings fluttering as it buzzed, its bottom glowing brightly. It buzzed around his head before flying away from them, flying towards the spectators... and Victoria.

"She likes fireflies, Billy," was all Pennywise said as he leaned back, pulling Bill back with him.

Bill didn't miss how Pennywise kept his hand on his stomach, which growled with hunger and tightened painfully, wanting food.

Bill could see a little blonde haired girl get up from her seat and walk off the bleachers, her own bitch mother not even paying attention. Bill honestly didn't know, or care, if it was because of Pennywise's influence or not, but figured that the mother ought to be paying better attention to her kid than some stupid baseball game. Bill just hated her. A lot.

He was forced to watch as Victoria followed the stupid firefly under the bleachers, heading towards the two of them. And quite possibly, her death.

"Puh-puh-please," Bill begged, his stomach growling angrily in protest. He could feel his hunger but he didn't want to hurt anyone. Especially a _kid_. Pennywise just chuckled, low and gravelly as he pulled Bill farhter into the shadows as Victoria approached the buzzing firefly.

At that moment, Bill felt more like he was watching a movie play, as though he was sitting in the theater and watching it play out, though he could still feel himself on the clown's lap, as another Pennywise appeared in front of Victoria, taking the firefly into his gloved hands and startling the poor girl. Bill gave out a whine as his stomach growled at the smell of fear that came from Victoria being startled, the smell practically rolling off her in waves. The Pennywise behind him just chuckled, pressing a gloved hand over Bill's mouth as though trying to silence him, but Bill knew the clown was just entertaining himself. If he didn't want Victoria to hear Bill, then Victoria wouldn't hear him.

The second Pennywise's face was illuminated by the light of the firefly, but now it was glowing an ominous red instead of a bright yellow, casting an eerie glow onto the clown's already scary face. Bill whimpered, begging the clown to leave her alone, even as his stomach growled and what was even scarier for Bill was that his stomach growling sounded like a noise Pennywise, in one of his many monstrous forms, or even as the clown, would make.

"Hello, Vicky," the second Pennywise greeted the little girl, who was obviously afraid now. "Isn't that what your friends call you?" he asked her. "Vicky?" he clarified. "How did I know that? I guess I must be your friend, too," he said, laughing at the end.

And yet, Bill was sort of proud of Victoria, or at least happy, in his mind, that she had more common sense than most kids in Derry had before.

"If you're my friend, why are you hiding in the dark?" she asked, clearly not believing him.

Pennywise's smile turned into an open-mouthed, buck-toothed frown and Bill could practically _feel_ the unhappiness that Pennywise was feeling. He hadn't expect that, and he wasn't happy about it.

"You're not my friend. You're scary," Vicky said, thinking the same thing that Bill and a lot of other people, kids and adults, had thought about Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

Victoria turned around, turning her back on the clown, which was a bad move when you really thought about it, and was about to walk away until the second Pennywise lowered his head and started crying, which, Bill could tell was completely fake, but Victoria couldn't.

 _No! No! No! No!_ Bill screamed in his head, repeating it like some kind of messed up mantra, as Victoria turned back to look at the clown. She even looked guilty.

 _Asshole! You fucker!_ Bill thought, knowing full well Pennywise could hear his thoughts. The Pennywise behind him just chuckled in his ear as the one in front of him hid a grin.

"Love you too, Billy," Pennywise said, clearly entertained.

"Why are you crying?" Victoria asked, even sounding guilty.

Bill hated the people of Derry, almost as much as he hated It, because of what he said next and if Bill was honest, who fucking cared? It was a birth mark, something Victoria couldn't control, and what was the big deal? It was a mark on her face, it's not like she had a really shitty and shallow personality like Greta Keene and a lot of other girls in Derry.

"People always make fun 'cause of the way I look," Pennywise said, playing on Victoria's insecurities easily. "I thought if you couldn't see my face, then maybe you'd want to be my friend. Nevermind," he said, starting to sob.

 _Fucker_ , Bill thought and the Pennywise behind him chuckled again, amused.

"Oh, silly old Pennywise, you'll never have no friends," Pennywise said sadly.

"People make fun of me too," Victoria said quietly, sounding sad and guilty, and Pennywise turned back to look at her.

"They do?" Pennywise asked, sounding actually curious and even empathetic. Bill thought that if he wasn't an interdimensional monster, and an asshole, he'd make a great actor.

"'Cause of this," Victoria said, pointing to her face and Bill could see the mark on her face. The same spot that was bitten into in his nightmares. It looks like either a burn from a flat iron or just a regular birth mark.

"Well, isn't that silly?" Pennywise asked, sounding amused. "That little thing? Why, I can blow that thing right away," he says.

 _Yeah, with your fucking teeth_ , Bill thinks and he knows the Pennywise behind him is grinning.

"You could?" Victoria asks, sounding hopeful and the Pennywise behind Bill grunts with disgust and even though Bill hates it, he understands why.

It's like, with Pennywise, everything is revered. Good is bad and bad is good, and while human fear smells either like a rich, flavorful meal, or a sweet dessert, happiness and hope smells bitter. And, even for Bill, it smells so bitter to the point that he can almost taste it and it tastes even worse than dark chocolate.

"See my point now, Billy?" Pennywise whispers in his ear.

 _No_ , Bill lies even though he knows that Pennywise knows he's full of shit.

"Oh, yes!" the second Pennywise says eagerly. "One poof and it'd be gone!" he says, giggling at the end and then the catch comes. "You would have to get close enough to see my face. I don't know Vicky," Pennywise says and Victoria walks up towards him.

"No, I won't make fun. I promise," she says and Bill starts to panic, struggling in Pennywise's grip.

 _Please! Please! Please! Don't!_ Bill begs in his head, the glove muffling his verbal pleas.

"You're hungry, Billy," Pennywise tells him quietly and Bill's stomach rumbles, agreeing with the clown.

 _No! I'm not!_ Bill lies, his stomach growling angrily with hunger as his insides practically _burn_ , wanting food.

He wants something like pizza or ice cream or tacos or just, something a human being eats, instead of another human being. Pennywise hums in his ear.

"Doubt you could handle that stuff now, Billy. Probably just throw it right back up," Pennywise says and while Bill doesn't know what he means, he doesn't care.

He doesn't want to hurt anyone. He's already got Georgie's blood on his hands, along with those asshole bashers, especially their stupid ringleader, but he doesn't want Pennywise to hurt Vicky and he certainly doesn't want to be the one to hurt her. He doesn't want to hurt anyone.

"What if they deserve it, Billy?" Pennywise whispers in his ear, reminding him of the bashers.

That's when it hits Bill's mind. The bashers, technically speaking, deserved something worse than death after what they tried to do to Adrian, and leave Don with the aftermath. It's not the same, Bill knew, but it was better than Victoria. Because... if you had to choose, between an adult and a kid... wouldn't you kill the adult and not the kid?

Bill felt like throwing up again at that thought, but he knew it was the only alternative Pennywise would give him, for whatever twisted reason. Bill also doesn't know where the fuck Victoria's dad is, but if her mom was so much of a useless bitch that she didn't even pay attention to her kid, even without Pennywise's influence, then she didn't deserve to live. And Bill knows that Pennywise doesn't have to influence the adults to much, because of what he said before he'd tried to go after Lisa. _Sad, isn't it? Don't even have to manipulate mommies and daddies much._ That was exactly what he'd said, so it was the same now, wasn't it?

 _The mom! The mom! Not Vicky! Please!_ Bill begged and Pennywise pressed his lips against Bill's skin and Bill could feel his grin.

"You'll trade the mom for Vicky?" Pennywise asked and Bill nodded frantically, the best he could. "You'll do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you to do it?" Pennywise asks and Bill stills.

He knows he's going to regret it, more than anything else, he's sure, but he can't not try and save Vicky, even if it means killing her mother. Slowly, but surely, Bill nods, lowering his head with shame but relenting, tears welling in his eyes and then he hears Pennywise huff, almost sounding put upon.

"Must you cry every time?" Pennywise grumbles as the other one, perky as ever, starts talking again.

"Promise promise?" the second Pennywise asks and Victoria nods, smiling. "Well, okie-dokie!" he says happily. "Just come on in a little closer, and we'll blow it away on the count of three," he giggles as Bill remembers this moment from the Deadlights, Pennywise's hand moving from his mouth to his neck.

"Just... don't hurt Vi-Vicky," he begs.

Pennywise says nothing as Victoria approaches his duplicate and Bill's eyes well with tears as he watches, a dreadful sort of feeling in his stomach, afraid Pennywise won't keep to his word. He didn't promise Bill shit, and Bill trusts Pennywise's word as far as he can throw him, which says it all.

"One," Pennywise started as Victoria held her chin up, showing her birth mark to him. "Two, Pennywise continued, drawing out the word and then pausing on three, drool dripping from his lip.

Bill grabbed Pennywise's hand, begging him not to hurt her with every fiber of his being as she said those next words.

"You're supposed to say three..."

To Bill's utmost relief, and his stomach's positive, spitting rage, Pennywise blew a raspberry instead of opening his mouth wide with hundreds of little sharp teeth in his mouth, ready to sink into the flesh of her face, right on her birth mark. Bill watched as the spit got onto the birth mark and he watched, transfixed, as the birth mark peeled off Victoria's face almost like a bandaid and Victoria also watched, surprised, as it was pulled off and then it was floating next to her head before it shifted and took the shape of a firefly, buzzing around her head. Victoria put a hand to her face, which was clear of the birth mark.

"It's really gone?" she asked, sounding like she didn't believe it but she was smiling brightly.

"Well, of course, silly Vicky!" Pennywise giggled.

She looked like she'd just been told that Christmas was coming early, with lots of presents, and so was her birthday. The happiest Bill had ever seen a kid, and he couldn't help but groan at the smell. It was even worse than the smell of the sewer system, the _Derry_ sewer system, _a sewer system_ , and while Bill was happy that the kid was alive, he really didn't like that smell.

"Thank you... thank you..." Victoria said, looking ready to hug Pennywise but she opted out, thankfully, and she practically skipped away, back to the spectators.

Bill even saw that her weird stuffed animal was still in the same spot she'd left it, but just as Victoria sat down, her mother got up saying she had to go to the bathroom and Bill trembled again, fear and dread one in his empty stomach, along with a burning hunger. Bill was sure his stomach was ready to eat itself if it didn't get food soon.

"Please..." Bill begged as he watched the mother head to a public bathroom and he whined as he felt Pennywise's hand on his neck, possessive.

"Her or Vicky, Billy. I can still get Vicky any time I want," Pennywise reminded him, his words and tone dark.

Bill knew what his choice was. It was a shitty thing, one of the shittiest things imaginable, not to pay attention to your kid, even for a split second. It didn't mean she deserved death, but in some part of Bill's thoughts, ones that, strangely, he felt weren't his own, the mother deserved death more than the kid did. Because, in those thoughts that weren't Bill's, the mother probably wouldn't hesitate to trade Vicky away, because in reality, she could make another kid any time she wanted...

"Is that..." Bill started to ask, his eyes wide.

"Just another whore, Billy," Pennywise said, sounding not at all impressed or like he cared. "Never wanted a kid and makes it the kid's problem," Pennywise said, sounding faintly disgusted.

"Y-you're lying..." Bill said, figuring it was a way to make Bill hate her more so he'd probably have a repeat of the bashers.

"Am I?" Pennywise growled, sounding angry at being called a liar.

"Sh-sh-she..." Bill stuttered.

"Probably hoped that kid would go missing. Nobody, not just in Derry, cares about someone until something happens. Then they get to act high and mighty and like they gave a shit. You know that," Pennywise said.

Bill felt like crying even as he felt angry again. He did know how that felt. Bowers didn't really give a shit about anyone but himself and his stupid gang and had the balls to tell Bill that he got a 'free ride' because Georgie went missing. And Bill's own mom didn't even want to acknowledge his existence, probably wishing it would've been Stuttering Bill, instead of Georgie, and his dad turned into an asshole. Bill didn't _mean_ for it to happen, it just did, and even though Pennywise was responsible, where was their mom when Georgie needed her? Why let Georgie go out at all? It was raining, and even if he'd had his slicker, it was just as much her fault as it was Bill's. And this woman, Victoria's mom, was just as big of a bitch if not even worse.

"That's a good Billy," Pennywise growled, low and guttural. Predatory and _hungry_.

**********

Checking her _makeup_ , in the mirror of a _public bathroom_ , at a _little league baseball game_... while her _child_ has no other parental supervision... in a town where people, _kids_ especially, are known to go _missing_ or wind up _dead_... and yet Bill still can't help but flinch at the sound of flesh tearing, bones snapping, blood spraying, and the bloodcurdling screams and some sadistic part of him finds the begging for her life, seriously pathetic. Even amidst the blood lust, he finds her begs for mercy pathetic. Bill isn't sure who is worse in that scenario. Pennywise, for having done this to countless children, even if they died instantly, which was still horrible, the mother, for begging and crying for mercy and to let her go, or Bill, because the one who killed her wasn't Pennywise. It was Bill.

It was like he was a rabid dog, bloodthirsty and ready to sink his teeth into anything that came in his path, which he did. Pennywise didn't even lay a finger on her, gloved or inhumanly monstrous. He needn't even take the form of her worst fear to kill her. Bill was just so _hungry_. And in Pennywise's thoughts, he felt like his little Billy had a theme going on. Kill instantly, by biting out the throat. It wasn't that the clown was complaining, it was impressive more than anything else, and his sweet little Billy was still _chewing_ , even as she was still alive.

She died, not long after, alone and in a filthy public bathroom, Vicky not even wondering where she was at as she kept touching her face and playing with her little firefly friend and plush toy from Adrian. A happy little smile on her face, one that met her eyes.

Pennywise knew it was some twisted self-righteous anger, mixed with the bloodlust, that made this scene so particularly gruesome, almost even worse than that basher with his throat bit out. The same one that made multiple persons throw up, or nearly throw up. Including Mikey and Stanley.

There are body parts all over the place, blood splattered on the mirrors and the sinks, mixing in easily with the already existent grime and old makeup from countless other people. Most of her organs are on the outside of her body, torn out by grabby hands, and her throat, bitten out, the final straw that took away her life as she quickly bled out, the arteries torn open by human teeth. Well, human _shaped_ teeth. The difference though, was that there was barely any body left, other than bloodied bones, torn arties and opened organs.

Bill, of course, was lying on the floor, shivering and of course, whining about it. Pennywise quite liked this little masterpiece, more than the first one, though he didn't appreciate Bill's whining. Bill's shirt was bloodied beyond repair, all of the ammonia in the world couldn't get it out, or magic. Whichever. His mouth and chin, his neck and hands all the way up to his elbows, are bloodstained, and his belly is full. Of course, the blood went further than that, staining the bright yellow pants Pennywise'd manifested for the teen.

Bill's on his side, the side of his face getting stained with the blood on the floor along with his hair, and he's crying. He feels no better than Pennywise, no better than a cannibal, and he feels like a monster. The worst part is, his stomach doesn't regret it, and it feels full and even the blood on his tongue tastes like a sweet dessert, like one of the sweet candies that melts on your tongue and the aftertaste isn't so bad. He's curled up into a ball, trying to hide himself. Even if the woman was a bitch, nobody deserved to die, ripped apart, limb by limb. He doesn't even know what'll happen to Victoria now... foster care couldn't be much better... especially in Derry... Bill thinks for a moment she'd probably be better off with Adrian and Don or something like that...

"It'd be Vicky. A child, instead. Remember that, Billy," Pennywise says in a surprisingly soft voice and Bill sniffles, knowing that's true. He'd saved a kid, sorta... well, if she ever saw that this is what became of her mother... the emotional scarring would be horrible... but she was _alive_.

Bill flinches when he feels Pennywise's arms around him, picking him up easily like he weighs no more than a ragdoll. To the clown, Bill knows he doesn't, but that doesn't change anything, even as Pennywise sits him onto the one bathroom sink that managed to not get covered in blood and Bill sees the scene he's made. There's barely any face left, only just a few fingers, so he's not even sure if anyone will be able to ID her, only figuring it was her because she's the only one who went missing from the ball game.

Pennywise is smiling at him, pleased and proud, Bill can see, but Bill doesn't feel pleased with himself or proud of his actions. The only thing that his body likes is that it's no longer hungry, and his mind hates him for that. Pennywise then lowers his head to Bill's neck and starts sniffing him, like he'd done 27 years ago in the sewers, angry that Bill wasn't afraid of him then.

"Almost there, Billy..." Pennywise says and Bill feels tears falling down his cheeks.

Is Pennywise going to make him kill another person? He doesn't want to, but he has a horrible feeling that he's not going to be able to fight that urge either. The woman had been afraid, and Bill had been hungry, but her fear hadn't tasted that good. It was more like eating a flavorless food, bordering bitter like dark chocolate or a food Bill's tastebuds didn't agree with, but it had satiated the hunger. Bill knew, knew in the pit of his heart and gut, that a _kid_ was going to be next, and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. He knew that.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Pennywise said, sounding disappointed.

Bill didn't even have the heart to glare at him.

"Look at it this way, Billy. She could've killed Vicky easily, any time she wanted, and made it look like an accident. Even by beating her to death, and fucked her way through the Sheriff's department to save herself," Pennywise says and Bill looks at him, confused.

Why was he attempting to comfort him? Also, it was a really shitty way of comforting somebody. Pennywise is looking up at him, Bill's sitting on the sink and Pennywise's chin is on his thighs, the clown on his knees in front of him.

"You remember Ed Corcoran, right, Billy?" Pennywise asks him and almost instantly, the memory comes back to his mind.

Bill's mind thinks back to the missing kid poster of Ed Corcoran, who'd taken up the spot as the missing kid of Derry. Like Betty Ripsom didn't even matter.

"Before him was Dorsey, one of my wake up calls. You know what he got, Billy? He got beaten to death by his already abusive stepfather just for climbing on a ladder in the garage. So, you and I aren't the worst things in this world, the next, or another world. Just remember that," Pennywise said and Bill grimaced.

He can honestly believe someone could get beaten to death by their stepfather, but the reasoning was kind of stupid. Sure, Dorsey could've been killed by falling off the ladder, but getting beaten to death over it was stupid... did Dorsey and Ed's mom even care...? Did his stepdad get away with it? Bill can't help but think that their mom didn't care, and the stepdad probably did get away with it.

"You've killed kids..." Bill said, not wanting to think about what that entailed for _him_.

Pennywise just made a humming sound, content for the moment.

"Because I get hungry," Pennywise says simply before continuing, smiling a weird sort of smile. Not, predatory like it usual is, but thoughtful, and content. "Is, say, a spider not supposed to eat a fly if it gets hungry?" Pennywise asked him and Bill frowned. "Imagine the spider needs to lay its eggs, and spiders do a lot for the world too. They get rid of those annoying little insects, kind of like bats. And most spiders just drink the blood, they let the bodies go back to the weeds. If a predator needs to eat for itself, and its offspring, should it not? Should it just die and let its offspring die to make the world happy? An ungrateful, cruel, evil world, at that. Well, should it?" Pennywise looks right at Bill as he says that.

Bill stares at him. He isn't sure if Pennywise is trying to comfort him or convert him into some weird cult shit, but his words have a point. The spider thing is odd, but not entirely inaccurate. Like... like a shark... eating a _turtle_... Bill thinks, not sure where the thought came from but it's not that different.

"It's still..." Bill isn't sure what it is, other than morally wrong, on a lot of levels.

"Would you rather kill little Vicky, a little girl with big dreams and hopes and a potentially good future, or would you rather let her mother live? Someone you know doesn't care about her only child?" Pennywise asks and Bill does have the heart to glare at him then. That answer was obvious by the murder scene on the floor.

"Wrong and right mean nothing, Billy," Pennywise said.

"Why won't you just kill me?" Bill whispers, his glare disappearing as his eyes turn sad.

Pennywise's smile turns into a frown before its a scowl and Bill feels afraid of him again.

"Because you're _mine_ ," he growls, eyes turning from the happy blue that Bill realizes they were the entire time he was murdering that woman, to bloody, lethal red.

Pennywise stands, still looming over Bill even though he's sitting on the sink, and Bill trembles in fear and anticipation. Pennywise looks at him and for a brief moment, Bill doesn't see the facade of Pennywise the Dancing Clown. In those eyes, he sees the monster behind them. He's certain, by human standards, that it's a giant, monstrous spider looking back at him, yet still something that a human can't fully comprehend, and he's scared, but at the same time, he grips the sink, feeling a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, more than just hunger pains or a belly satisfied by eating human flesh and drinking human blood. Bill flushes as he feels himself stirring in his pants, not even being touched, but getting turned on.

The smugness on the clown's face is not endearing, as the anger fades and the red irises bleed into an ominous yellow again, knowing something Bill doesn't.

"I-I-I--" Bill gasps as he feels himself hardening almost against his will, a tent forming in the yellow pants and already there's a wet spot on the front.

He whines, throwing his head back against the mirror, as he feels a heat that was both heavenly and hellish at the same time, nothing like the previous times the clown had fucked him, taking his virginity, fucking him in the Deadlights (though inside the Deadlights actually seemed to be a close second when Bill thought about it), and after Bill had killed those bashers and after Pennywise had spared Lisa.

It feels like heaven because the heat feels nice, pleasurable, and Bill likes it, but it feels like hell because it feels too hot at the same time, and it's quickly turning painful since he's not being touched. Bill looks at the clown, eyes wide and pupils already blown, face and ears red and burning with the rest of his body. It feels like every one of his nerves is on fire, warm before hot, and he can already feel sweat on his skin, smell it even. Liquid pleasure running through his veins, warm on his skin, hot between his legs and then...

Bill looks away, embarrassed when he feels something _back there_. And yet that same strange feeling, abnormal and definitely inhuman, sends something into his cock that makes it throb before it _aches_. There's already a patch of wetness on the front of his pants, and now, it feels wet all over the back, like a hot wetness. But it feels... slick. Like it is slick... Pennywise purrs as he looms over Bill, hips pressed against Bill's knees, taking Bill's face into his hands.

"It's _normal_ , Billy," Pennywise says it so simply, almost as if it is the most normal thing in the world but Bill knows its not normal for humans. It's normal for whatever the hell Pennywise, It, is... not _humans_...

Bill's eyes grew as the thought hit him. All this time... Pennywise had his fill with those bashers, surely for the summer, maybe... and that was probably the reason didn't care about Lisa as much... because he'd known what Bill didn't. Beverly had been in the Deadlights, but only for an hour or a few hours... tops. It wouldn't have changed her as much as it changed Bill, who had been in the Deadlights for _27 years_ , changed the most out of anyone else in Derry. Pennywise wasn't killing because he didn't _need_ to, he was already what he was and this entire time, he'd had been making Bill just like whatever he was... Bill tried to jump off the sink, though he was sure with how numb his limbs were quickly becoming he would've fell instead, but Pennywise wouldn't move, keeping Bill's head in place with his hands and his hips against Bill's knees, trapping him like a _fly_ in a _spider's web_.

Bill jerked when he felt Pennywise sucking at the spot just underneath his ear, and he felt himself twitching in his pants. Teeth were applied to the spot, sharp as Pennywise always liked them, and Bill couldn't help but gasp at the feeling. He'd felt Pennywise's teeth on him before, biting into his flesh and drawing blood and it'd felt euphoric before but now it felt amplified, as though his senses were on their highest setting and even higher than that. There was a low thrum in his body, a different kind of hunger in his belly, craving for more, wanting to be touched, taken, and fucked. _Claimed_.

Gloved hands pulled down those yellow pants and Bill felt the creep of embarrassment and shame even in the heat, the entire ass of the pants were _soaking wet_ as they fell to the bloodied bathroom floor, and he flinched when he felt the coldness of the sink against his bottom, quickly realizing the underwear were pulled down with the pants, showing his bottom half to the clown again.

Bill couldn't contain the whimper he made or the twitching of his cock when Pennywise licked his lips, tongue sliding across the red of them, as he lowered himself down, on his knees in front of the sink and still taller than it, and pulled Bill's legs up, placing them on his shoulders, the base of Bill's back touching the cold faucet. Bill watched, eyes wide, pupils blown, chest heaving, belly clenching, as Pennywise lifted his bottom up and forewent his cock entirely. Again. But this time it was different than before.

It was still wet against Bill's skin, yet it was like fire as it trailed over the soft flesh, licking at Bill's most intimate part and Bill threw his head back, nearly screaming out his moan, the sound drowned out by the cheering, as Pennywise licked at the slick without any hesitation. Devouring it. Devouring Bill. Bill couldn't help but arch his back and cry out as fire ran through his blood, coursing through him, as he felt the tongue pushing in, the sounds so wet and lewd and he'd never thought the sound of _slurping_ could be so hot.

Bill moaned shamelessly, back arching as he felt himself twitching and he was coming all over himself, more than before, painting his entire belly white, his release mixing with the blood on his shirt. Short little breaths, raspy and quick, his lips swollen, and Pennywise never stopped and Bill whined, his mind and belly speaking for him.

"Fuh-fuh-fuchk..." Bill stuttered out, fighting to speak not because of his stutter, but his shortness of breath. "Fuh-fuh-fuck me..."

Yet he whined again when he felt that tongue sliding out of him, the wet sounds making him flush darker, his ears burning, and it came out of him with a wet popping sound. Positively lewd and fucking filthy. Bill turned his eyes, closing his eyes, his limbs feeling like jelly, yet he felt so warm at the same time, like he was in a cocoon. He made a sound when he felt gloved fingers on his chin and blinked his eyes open, his vision the faintest bit of blurry but the clown's face was clear as day, eyes still yellow and he was grinning, ear to ear, the red lines on his face pronounced.

" _Mine_ ," Pennywise growled, low and dangerous. Possessive and predatory.

Bill's mind spoke for him, glazed with heat and veiled over with fog. "Y-y-yours..."

He let instinct take over, the newfound hunger taking over his thoughts as he felt the familiar blunt head of Pennywise's cock pushing into him, spearing him open, the stretch still burning and Bill moaned, the perfect whore's moan, Pennywise's whore, _It's_ whore. One gloved hand found its way to Bill's belly and Bill jerked, a strange feeling there, but not unwelcome. The second took hold of Bill's wrist, pressing it up against the tiled wall next to the mirror, keeping him in place as he filled the teen up and Bill's eyelids fluttered at the feeling of being full. He would never not like-- _love_ it.

While Bill's fogged mind didn't know if Pennywise wouldn't just manifest another hand or not, he didn't care, he put his free hand on the clown's shoulder, fingers and nails digging into the surprisingly soft fabric of the suit, and Bill tried to pull the clown closer, as though trying to pull him deeper into his body. He didn't need to open his eyes to know the clown was grinning. He also didn't need to open his eyes to know where the clown's lips were, and Bill pressed his bloodied ones against the painted ones, initiating the kiss and then moaning happily when his mouth was quickly taken over, that same wet tongue sliding against his lips before shoving its way into Bill's mouth, the blood sliding against flesh and staining Pennywise's mouth.

Bill's legs hung over each side of the sink as Pennywise fucked into him, rough and animalistic, yet dominating and fully in control at the same time. His moans were muffled, yet still high pitched and wanton, needy and desperate, as his cock bobbed between their bodies. Bill couldn't help but arch his back every time Pennywise would pull out, trying to push himself back onto his monstrous cock and shove it back in, and cry out into the clown's mouth when he slammed in, hitting Bill's sweet spot every time, stars and black dancing in Bill's eyes. His hand, the one attached to the wrist Pennywise was holding, was balled in a fist, hitting the wall on each thrust, as the other one tried to pull the clown closer.

Bill was certain he'd almost had a heart attack when he heard someone try to come into the bathroom, the door not even budging and the reason wasn't because the door was locked. There was a body in the way. Bill broke the kiss, not missing Pennywise's unhappy grunt, as he started to panic.

The door opened and inside came two police officers and Bill was sure time had stopped, though his heart was beating practically at the speed of sound, but the cops looked indifferent, almost completely oblivious and what a scene it'd make, Bill thought. A teenage kid, just thirteen, getting fucked on a dirty bathroom sink by a grown man dressed as a clown, with a mutilated body all over the floor, blood all over both of them, most explicitly around the mouth, and flesh between Bill's teeth. Yet, to Bill's surprise, but not at the same time, the cops didn't notice the scene at all.

Bill felt the faintest bit guilty when he realized they were looking for Victoria's mother, 'witnesses' saying they saw her enter the bathroom, but never come out. They even checked all of the stalls, completely unaware that the woman's body was right by their feet, and her blood was _on_ their feet. Pennywise was grinning, clearly amused with the entire scene and Bill's rapidly beating heart, and probably impressed with himself even as he kept fucking into Bill.

"Wait till they actually see what you did, Billy... such a pretty picture..." Pennywise grunted as he kept thrusting in, Bill trying his hardest to keep his moans in but he couldn't help himself, afraid the illusion would fall and they would see this... but at the same time...

Bill didn't even need to be intentional, the heat inside him made him cry out, moaning as loud as possible, maybe even louder than possible, but they didn't notice at all... but the idea, the very thought, of being claimed by Pennywise, by It, in front of people, letting it be known that he was being fucked by the clown, being claimed by It...

Bill's thighs, wet with slick and slick with sweat, quivered as his legs jerked, toes curling in his shoes, and he threw his head back, cracking the glass worse and nearly shattering the mirror entirely, his fingers digging into Pennywise's shoulder as he balled his other hand into a fist, moaning shamelessly and wantonly, brokenly as he came, spurting onto the clown suit and his belly, getting it on Pennywise's hand just as the cops walked out, just writing it off as 'I'm sure she'll turn up' instead of anything serious. Bill moaned again when he felt Pennywise's warm flesh, the knot (a lone thought drifted in his foggy mind), snagged in him, shoving in and Bill cried out as he felt it swelling inside him, knotting him and locking them together, Pennywise's heat, It's release, filling him up and Bill couldn't help but moan at that too.

He whimpered as he felt Pennywise rocking into him, already oversensitive, but he still wanted more. His mind grew steadily clearer, but he knew what was coming after this.

"Not kids..." Bill croaked, his voice hoarse, his throat sore.

"Hush, Billy," Pennywise grunted, still buried deep inside of the teen.

Bill leaned his head back against the cracked glass, moaning softly at the feeling of the cock rocking deep inside him, brushing against that innermost spot. Bill looked at himself, grimacing at the sight and wanting clothes that weren't stained with blood and cum. Pennywise chuckled in his ear and Bill heard the sound of fabric rustling, movement catching his eye.

He frowned when he saw, floating next to the sink, a baggy, bright yellow jumpsuit with orange pompoms on the front, with purple and teal striped sleeves that were puffy, a sleeveless black vest with pink lining, and a ruffled collar that had white on the top, purple and teal stripes in the middle, and white again on the bottom. Two pure white gloves were floating at the sleeves of the suit and one of them even waved at Bill. He looked back at Pennywise, who was just smiling at him expectantly.

"Fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- So, how was it?  
> \- Happy New Year, all!  
> \- I think Dorsey was only in the book (it's been a while since I've read the book so I just use wikipedia) but he had plot value


	8. Beverly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Some chapters have titles, some don't  
> \- So, I watch the movie as I write, so the start and middle is mostly revolving around the script  
> \- 1990 It references, can you spot them all?  
> \- No smut(sorry)

Ben pulls up to the Derry Town House, the sign reading No Vacancy. Eddie parks right behind him and they both make their way up to the building, fear in their hearts, pooled in the pit of their stomachs, a guilt they didn't understand resting in the darkest, foggiest parts of their memories. Beverly is in the lead, Richie right behind her, Eddie behind him and Ben behind Eddie as they enter the lobby.

"Let's get our shit and get the fuck out of here," Richie says the minute he opens the door for himself, nearly shutting it on Eddie.

"Did you leave your stuff here?" Eddie asks Ben.

"No, my stuff's still in the car," Ben says, his thoughts focusing on Beverly and he turns to see her standing behind the bar, a solemn expression on her face.

He hasn't forgotten what she said at the restaurant. We killed him, echoes in Ben's head. He walks toward her, Beverly downing her drink as he approaches the bar. He sits in front of her, eyes never leaving her pale face.

"Tell me," he says, knowing she's hiding something.

"Tell you what?" Beverly asks, eyes wide but she does look faintly confused.

"Whatever it is you're afraid to tell me right now," Ben says, trying to be comforting.

She stares at him, and then looks down at her drink. She puts the bottle back, walking out from behind the bar.

"Bev. Bev. Back at the Jade when Stan said that... said that Bill... Bill was..." Ben stops himself as Beverly bumps into his chest.

"Stop," she says, her hands in front of her chest protectively, almost as though she expected Ben to hit her.

He backed up before he continued.

"You said we killed him," Ben says and Beverly doesn't make eye contact, looking down at her feet instead. "What did you mean?" he asked.

She looks up at him, eyes glassy and pink, ready to start crying. Her lip quivers.

"Don't you remember?" she asks quietly.

"No," Ben says truthfully.

She breathes shakily, tears falling now.

Richie walks in, talking impatiently.

"Whatever you guys are talking about, let's make it happen faster, all right? We gotta go," Richie says. " _Eduardo_ , _andale_! Let's go!" he shouts.

"There's something you're not telling us," Ben says to Beverly. "You said we killed Bill, what did you mean?" Ben asks, fully aware of Richie turning back to look at them.

"Wait, what?" Richie asks, walking back to the two of them.

Beverly looks down. "I can't do this," she says, walking past Ben and Richie.

"We didn't kill him... no, the clown did... right?" Richie asks Ben, who shrugs, a strange guilt gnawing at his stomach. "Isn't that right?" Richie asks as Ben follows Beverly.

"You can't just walk away from this," Ben tells her, following her up to the counter as she starts ringing the bell. "What did you mean we killed Bill?" he asks.

She doesn't answer as she goes around the counter to grab her key herself.

"Talk to me," Ben says, bordering begging. "Just talk to me. Like we used to," he says, remembering that. "Come on, what did you mean?" he asks.

"Because for twenty-seven years... I couldn't forget..." Beverly says quietly. "I've seen it... over and over again... Bill dying... all of us dying..." she says quietly.

Ben and Richie stare at her as the sound of bags thumping hits all of their ears, Eddie coming down the stairs with two heavy suitcases.

"Okay, I just got to grab my toiletry bag, and then we can go," Eddie says, having missed this entire moment, the bags thudding as he stops on the stairs. "What'd I miss?" he asks as they stare at him and he stares back.

Richie quickly gives him the short version, where Beverly says they were the ones who killed Bill, and she's seen all of them die. Eddie is pacing before he starts talking.

"Okay. So, what do you mean that you've seen all of us die? And how did we kill Bill?" Eddie asks her.

"Yeah, 'cause I gotta be honest. That's a fucked up thing to just drop on somebody," Richie says unhelpfully.

Beverly wipes the tears from her eye as she explains. "Every night since Derry, I've been having these nightmares," she says quietly, fear and guilt in her eyes. "People in pain. People dying," she says, her lip quivering as she struggles to speak. "People..."

"So, you have nightmares. I have nightmares. People, they have nightmares. But that doesn't mean your visions are true," Eddie says.

Beverly is trembling as she speaks. "I've watched every single one of us..." she says quietly.

"You've seen every single one of us what?" Stan's voice asks as he walks in, Mike right behind him.

"At the place that..." Beverly's lip quivers. "Georgie wound up..." she says quietly. "That's how we end..." she says.

"Okay, how come the rest of us aren't seeing that shit?" Richie asks. "I mean, what makes her so different?"

"The Deadlights," Mike says.

Stan trembles. "The Deadlights..." he says, remembering how they had found Beverly floating in midair, her eyes glazed over... floating...

Beverly remembers seeing the three bright lights, swirling together in Pennywise's mouth full of teeth... hearing the screams of children and adults, boys and girls... the coldness of that bright light, almost as though she was dead...

"She was the only one of us that got caught in the Deadlights that day," Stan says.

"We were all touched by It," Mike says. "Changed. Deep down. Like an infection. Or a virus," he says, then looking at Eddie. "A virus. You understand," Eddie brushes past him. "Slowly growing... That virus, it's been growing for 27 years. This whole time, metastasizing," Mike says.

"But... what does that have to do with Bill?" Ben asks, still not fully remembering.

Beverly closes her eyes as tears stream down her cheeks and Stan remembers.

"We made a deal with It," Stan says and everyone except Beverly looks at him, Ben, Richie, and Eddie confused, while Mike is sympathetic.

"We... we were in the sewer... it had Bill... we were fighting it... and... It offered to let us go... so long as it kept Bill," Stan says quietly. "Last meal..." he adds darkly, tears streaming from his eyes. "Because I was the weakest," he adds.

"Fuck..." Richie says, remembering that and the guilt hits him and he understands why.

Beverly sniffles and Ben looks at her. There's more, he can just tell.

"Bev?" he asks and all eyes turn back to her, but hers are on Stan's.

"You weren't supposed to come back," she says quietly and Stan looks away. "You... you're supposed to be dead already..." she says.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie says.

"That's some dark shit," Richie adds.

"I couldn't do it," Stan says, lip quivering. "I... I wanted to... so badly... I was... afraid... and I was right there..." he says. "The fear... it was pushing me to do it... slit my wrists and be done with it..." Stan says.

"Dude... that's fucked up..." Richie says, disturbed.

"But... the guilt... I swear, it was like I could hear Bill telling me not to do it..." Stan says and while that sort of comforts Mike, Richie, Eddie, and Ben, it only makes Beverly more afraid.

"What Beverly sees, it will come to pass. It's what'll happen to all of us, eventually, unless we stop It," Mike says.

"We didn't stop It 27 years ago, when Bill was still alive. What makes you think we can stop it now?" Richie asks.

"How the hell are we supposed to do that?" Eddie asks.

"The Ritual of Chud," Mike answers, still feeling slightly guilty for drugging Stan against his will but it helped Stan understand. He knows what Stan saw, seeing the same thing himself.

A great meteor coming to earth, billions and billions of years ago. A great evil swarming the earth like a plague, devouring all in its path. No true form, only that of a cold, dead light. How it appeared to the Shokopiwah.

"The Shokopiwah," Mike says. "The first ones who fought It, they have a saying. 'All living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit'," he says.

"A tribal ritual?" Richie asks, disbelief written across his face. "Are you fucking kidding me, man?" he asks. "All right, there's gotta be another way. Okay? This thing comes back, what, every 27 years? Let's just kick the can down the road and do it then."

"Wait, we'll be 70 years old, asshole," Eddie says unhappily.

"It doesn't work that way," Beverly says. "None of us make it another 20 years, and the way it happens..." she lowers her voice, eyes wide and afraid.

"So, if we don't beat It this cycle, then..." Ben says quietly. "We die..."

"Horribly," Eddie says.

"Yeah, I don't need the 'horribly' part," Richie says.

"I didn't say it. She said it. Not me," Eddie says.

"All right, guys... Look..." Stan says. "I've seen..." he starts to stutter, all of the others noticing it immediately. Beverly most of all. "What he's talking about, and it's all true," he says. "It's the only way. If we want this ritual to work..." he looks at Mike, still unhappy about being drugged against his will.

"We have to remember," Mike says.

"Remember what?" Richie asks.

Mike doesn't tell them then, instead leading them through Derry.

"It's better if I show you. We don't have much time. His cycle will end soon... And once it does..."

"We're fucked..." Eddie says.

Mike takes them back down to the Barrens, where Bill, Richie, Stan, and Eddie were looking for Georgie, where they first met Ben. Where the six of them met Mike, where their bonds were forged. Where they came after the rock fight, where Ben secretly started to build them a clubhouse.

"The Barrens," Beverly says, smiling.

"This is where we came..." Ben says and Beverly giggles. "After the rock fight."

"The clubhouse," Richie says, remembering.

"You built that for us," Beverly says, smiling.

"Yeah, the hatch has got to be around here someplace," Richie says.

"You did! I do remember that!" Eddie says.

Ben looks around at the ground, trying to remember exactly where he had started digging the hole as the others stop behind him. "You know what? I actually think the door was more like," he starts tapping the ground with his foot. "around..." he barely has time to gasp before he feels the ground caving in beneath him and then he's falling and then he's fighting for breath when he lands on his stomach and chest, crashing into the clubhouse. "Found it," he says, groaning slightly. "I'm okay!" he shouts. "Come down!" he says.

As they all come down, they remember when Ben first showed it to them. After he was done building it, after that day in the sewer when they faced Pennywise. When they traded Bill for themselves.

"What the dick is this?" young Richie had asked almost instantly, the minute he had entered the clubhouse. "How'd you build it?"

"When did you build it?" young Bill had asked.

"Here and there, I guess," young Ben had said. "It was already dug out from something, so I just had to reinforce the walls and get some wood for the roof door, and that's pretty much it," he had explained. "Pretty good for my first time, huh?" he had asked, smiling when he'd put his hand on one of the beams and part of it caved in right behind Beverly.

"Now, that's a cool feature," Richie had said. "What happens when you put your hand on the other pillar, professor?" he had asked.

"Okay, you see, this is exactly why there are safety codes, why we have permits," young Eddie had said, already getting bitchy and slapping the back of his hand onto his other palm. "This place is a death trap. You understand that?" he had asked Ben.

"Well, it's a work in progress. Okay, Eddie?" Ben had said.

"Just so you know, I get hurt, you are liable," Eddie said before turning and pointing at something hanging from the ceiling. "And, also, what is this? The switch of an iron maiden?" he asked.

"That's a flashlight," Ben had answered.

"What is that, a horse hitch? When do you have horses down..." Eddie kept complaining before he was distracted by something on the floor. "Oh, this is cool," he said, bending down and picking up a paddle-ball.

"That was like, three dollars, so be careful with that, please," Ben said.

"I have one of these. Hey, Stan, you see this?" Eddie asked, paddling the ball quickly in Stan's face.

"Yeah, okay, can you maybe not?" Stan asked, flinching at the closeness of the ball.

"Maybe not what? Yeah, yeah, hold on. Maybe not what?" Eddie taunted. "Be awesome and have fun and celebrate the magic of the paddle-ball?" and of course, it slipped from his hand, the ball snapping from the string and rolling between the boards on the floor.

"Oh, good going, fucknut. You broke his thing," Eddie said instantly.

"I broke it?" Stan asked, disbelieving.

"Yeah, you broke it with your face," Eddie said.

"What?" Stan asked, looking back where the ball had fallen.

"I'm not putting my fucking hand down there," Eddie had said.

And yet, 27 years later, an adult Eddie Kaspbrak was reaching his hand between the boards and pulling the ball from between them, blowing the dust from it.

"Oh, man. That's so cool," Eddie says happily.

"Oh, my God," Stan says, remembering.

"How do we all not remember that this was here?" Eddie asks.

Though, almost instantly, they all jump, even Mike, Stan especially, when they hear an all too familiar voice from the shadows.

"Hey, Losers," Pennywise's voice says from the shadows. "Time to float."

The fear dissolves when they see Richie walking out of the shadows, a grin on his face before he starts laughing.

"Fuck, Richie," Stan mutters, his heart pounding.

"Dude!" Eddie says unhappily.

"Remember when he used to say that shit? And he'd do that little dance," Richie says, imitating Pennywise's dance even though he never actually saw the dance itself. "Am I the only one who remembers this shit?" Richie asks.

"Are you gonna be like this the entire time we're home?" Eddie asks, still unhappy.

"All right. Just trying to add some levity to this shit. I'll go fuck myself," Richie says, whistling as he walks away.

Ben reaches onto one of the shelves, pulling from it the can that Stan had the shower caps in. "Hey, you guys?" he says, even seeing Stan's name on it.

Stan looked at it, surprised as he remembers when he'd first bought them... to prevent spiders from getting in their hair... he remembers that. _For the use of Losers only_.

Stan remembers giving one to Beverly, Ben, Eddie, Mike, and obviously himself, Richie being the only one not to bother with one. He remembers the 80's music that had been playing in the background.

"The fuck is this?" young Richie had asked him.

"So you don't get spiders stuck in your hair when you're down here," young Stan had explained.

"Stanley, we're not afraid of fucking spiders," Richie said, throwing the cap back into the can.

When Stan had moved, however, Beverly, Eddie, Ben, and Mike were all wearing the caps.

"I stand corrected," Richie had said, mockingly, Eddie pulling his cap off.

Beverly had laughed. "That's a first," she had said, smoking a cigarette.

"Touche," Richie said, impressed.

Eddie had then approached him. "Hey, Rich, your ten minutes are up," he had said.

"What are you talking about?" Richie had asked.

"The hammock. Ten minutes each was the rule," Eddie had said.

"I don't see any sign," Richie said, uncaring.

"Are you being this way right now? Really? No, no, no. Why would there be a sign if it was a verbal agreement?" Eddie had asked, already getting annoyed. "And I remember you agreeing on the fucking rule!" they started arguing and Eddie had forced his way onto the hammock, not caring that he was also sitting on Richie.

"I can see your vagina!" Richie had complained.

"Ten minutes each," Eddie had said, almost winning the fight.

"Go back in your dumb little corner!" Richie had said. "I fucked your mom!"

"No, you didn't. Take that back!" Eddie had snapped as Beverly approached Ben, who was hammering a nail into a piece of wood.

"You're awfully good at this, new kid," she said, leaning on a pillar.

"You really think so?" Ben had asked, hopeful. "There's actually a summer program in Bar Harbor. Teaches you, like, everything about architecture. I was thinking about applying," Ben told her.

"I'll do that," Richie said, his legs tangled with Eddie's, who had his foot on Richie's face. "I'll do anything to get the hell out of Derry," Richie said, shoving Eddie's foot away from his face, his heart and stomach twisting weirdly.

"Man, when I graduate, I'm going to Florida," Mike had said, sitting on the swing Ben had put in.

"What's in Florida, Mike?" Ben had asked and Mike had just shrugged, smiling slightly.

"I don't know. You know, I guess it's just a place I always wanted to go," Mike had said.

"Stan, you should go with Mike to Florida. You already act 80. You'd clean up with all the grandmas," Richie had said, imitating kissing and they'd all started laughing, except Stan.

"Do you guys think we'll still be friends?" Stan had asked, frowning guiltily. "When we're older?" he asked, all of them looking at him now.

"What?" Richie had asked. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Do any of your parents still hang out with their friends from middle school?" Stan had asked as Eddie slid Richie's glasses off his face, tapping Richie's face with his foot.

"I mean, things might be different then," Stan had said. "We all might be different," he said quietly.

Oddly enough, they were all almost certain they could hear Bill's voice saying, " _We'll always still be friends. I don't think that just, you know, goes away because we get older_ ," even if it sounded like a mere echo, distant in sound. Almost nonexistent.

For a moment, a long moment, it was quite, until Beverly broke the silence.

"Yeah, Stan. Come on," she had said. "You don't have to be so..."

"Sad," adult Beverly says, repeating what she had said 27 years ago.

They're all feeling sad, because Stan had bought seven. One for himself, one for Richie, one for Eddie, one for Ben, one for Mike, one for Beverly, and one for Bill.

"Bill..." Stan whispered quietly, the guilt eating away at him.

"He was good..." Ben said quietly.

"Yeah," Eddie said. "I wonder what he would've been like... all grown up..."

"Probably what he was like as a kid," Richie said. "The best."

Stan kept hold of the seventh cap, not the one he'd offered to Richie, he knew that. The one he'd bought for Bill without even thinking about it.

"All right, Mike. What are we doing here?" Richie asked Mike then.

"The ritual," Mike says, standing up. "To perform it requires a sacrifice," he says.

"Sacrifice? I nominate Eddie," Richie says at once.

"Wait, what?" Eddie says, sounding afraid.

"Because you're little. You'll fit on a barbecue," Richie says, trying not to smile at the pissed look on Eddie's face.

"I'm 5'9. It's, like, average height in most of the world," Eddie says.

"It's not that kind of a sacrifice, guys," Stan says, sighing. "Mike?"

"The past is buried," Mike says. "But you're gonna have to dig it up. Piece by piece. And these pieces, these artifacts, that's why we're here. They are what you'll have to sacrifice," he says. "And since Bill isn't here to find his... I figured we should all be here together to find his artifact."

"I think Ben just did that... for Stan," Eddie says, putting a cap on his head.

Moments later, Mike is helping Ben out of the clubhouse, Richie scratching at his head, almost positive there's spiders in his hair.

"Okay, Mike, so where do we find our tokens?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, I gotta be honest, man. All due respect. This is fucking stupid, all right? Why do we need tokens? All right? We already remember everything," Richie says, unfortunately including the deal with Pennywise. "Saving Bev... that shit thing we did to Bill... I mean, we're caught up!"

"It's not everything," Mike says, fully aware he's keeping more from them than he should, though he wonders if Beverly already knows because of her nightmares but doubts it. He figures, at the very least, once they've found their tokens, then he can tell them "We fought. But what happened after that? Before the house on Neibolt," Mike says, seeing their confused faces, trying to remember but they can't. "Think."

"We can't remember, can we?" Stan asks, stuttering on his words.

"See, there's more to our story," Mike says. "What happened that summer. And those blank spaces, like pages torn out of a book. That's what you need to find," he says. "We need to split up," he says as Stan stands up. "You each need to find your artifact. Alone. That's important. When you do, meet me at the library tonight."

"Yeah, I gotta say, statistically speaking, you look at survival scenarios, we're gonna do much better as a group," Eddie says.

"Yeah, splitting up would be dumb, man," Richie says and Eddie points at him, agreeing. "Okay, we gotta go together. All right? We were together that summer, right?"

"No," Stan says. "Not that--" he stutters a little. "whole summer," he says and they remember.

"Take it back," Bill had said before punching Richie in the face, knocking him to the ground.

Mike and Stan helped Richie to his feet. "You're just a bunch of losers. Fuck off!"

"Stop!" Beverly screamed as Ben held Bill back and Mike and Stan held Richie back. "We were all together when we hurt It. That's why we're still alive," she said.

"Yeah? Well, I plan to keep it that way," Richie said unhappily, leaving with Stan. Ben and Mike soon following, leaving Beverly and Bill.

"I bet by tomorrow, we'll all be back together," Beverly remembers telling Bill as they walked their bikes together, Bill walking her home.

"I don't think so," Bill had said.

"Well, if we're gonna stop It, we better be," she had said.

"M-m-maybe Richie was right," Bill had said. "Maybe we shouldn't do anything about It, or maybe we can't," he had said.

"Okay, don't let them get to you," Beverly had told him.

"It's a little late for that," Bill had said, his eyes sad. "You should go. Before your dad sees," he had said and she had walked away from him.

Beverly is standing outside the building she used to live in, remembering Bill peddling away on Silver. She's not sure if she can face her father, but knows she has too. Seeing Bill in all of her nightmares was the worst, seeing him being tortured by the Deadlights as she had been, floating within them for 27 years. She had seen the place, a universe but seemingly more macro-sized than even this world, where Georgie had gone and where, in her nightmares, she had seen Stan go, but never Bill. But she knew he was gone. She knew that.

She turned, looking at the old gray apartment with the rickety old stairwells that led to multiple doors. She went in, knocking on apartment 5's door, Marsh still written on the door. But when someone answered the door, she could tell it was an old lady.

"Yes?" the woman asked.

"Sorry... I..." Beverly was about to apologize, say she had the wrong apartment, and she saw the name. It said Kersh, not Marsh.

"May I help you?" the woman asked.

"I thought I rang Marsh," Beverly said.

"Marsh?" the woman asked. "Alvin Marsh?" she asked.

"My father," Beverly said. "I grew up here," she explained.

The woman closed the door and Beverly heard the clicking of the lock before it was opening again, revealing a wrinkled old woman with hair that was passing the gray years and turning white.

"Dear, it's not for me to tell you this, but your father passed away," the woman said.

Beverly frowned. She hadn't expected that. She hadn't spoken into him for years but... she felt sad and yet, relieved at the same time. He hadn't been the best father, but he still provided for her... of course, then that day when Pennywise had taken her happened... but she wondered if he had been under Pennywise's influence... either way... he was gone too...

"I'm so sorry. You didn't know?" the woman, Kersh, asked.

"We hadn't spoken in a while," Beverly said. In years, she thought but didn't say.

"Well, won't you come in?" Mrs. Kersh offered. "Let me offer you something to drink."

"No, it's fine. I have to go," Beverly said.

"It's the least I can do," Mrs. Kersh said and Beverly stared at her for a moment.

"Sure. Okay," she said before coming in and walking past Mrs. Kersh, unaware of the delightfully demented grin on the old woman's face.

She barely recognized the place, so many pictures on the walls, the different furniture... and the homey feel of it.

"Is it like you remember?" Mrs. Kersh asked her as they stopped in the living room, Beverly looking around.

"Cleaner," Beverly said truthfully, remembering the beer bottles.

"Well, you feel free to look around while I get the water boiling," Mrs. Kersh said.

"Oh, really, it's fine. You don't need to do that," Beverly said instinctively.

"Don't be so polite," Mrs. Kersh said, almost snapping it and Beverly only just barely resisted the urge to flinch.

It was almost like the woman could see right through her.

She walked down the hall, remembering how she had run down it to get away from her father, locking herself in the bathroom. She remembered how the hair she'd cut off her own head had attacked her, blood covering the walls and the floor and the tub, and yet her father couldn't see it. She remembered walking down the hallway, hands clasped together, seeing him sitting at the kitchen table with something that had belonged to her mother.

"I can still smell her perfume," he had said. "And she'd still be alive if it wasn't for you," he said.

Beverly wasn't sure if he knew how deeply the words had cut her, even though they had gone through this every year since her mother had died in childbirth.

"Mama was sick," Beverly had said. "You know that's why she did what she did," she said.

Her father had told her this. Her mother had chosen between saving herself and saving their unborn baby, and had chosen to save the unborn baby. To save Beverly and let herself die so Beverly could live.

"She did what she did because she was embarrassed to be your mother," her father had said, his voice rising with each word, turning towards her at the end. "You look like her," he had said. "But you are nothing like her," he had said quietly.

"Come here," he had said.

She hadn't, instead standing there and looking at him. "I said come here!" he had barked and she jumped.

"Close your eyes," he had said, Beverly standing in front of him, her eyes pink and glassy but he didn't notice or didn't care.

A bottle of perfume, her mother's favorite, in his hand. She closed her eyes, trembling as a lump formed in her throat, feeling disgusting as he sprayed the perfume all over her and all around them, sniffing as he did.

"You know that I would never hurt you," he had whispered to her. "You know that, don't you?"

She hadn't answered, verbally. Only standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had walked to him, hugging him instead.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she had sobbed.

"You'll always be my little girl, won't you?" he had asked her.

"Always."

Beverly remembered that day. It had happened every year on her mother's birthday, for as long as she could remember. She walked passed that room and entered her old bedroom, seeing an old fan, books scattered all over the floor, completely different than she last remembered it. A sudden thought struck her and she moved a small table out of the way, looking to make sure Mrs. Kersh wasn't nearby before getting on her knees and pulling at the wall, taking a little pair of scissors to pull at the base of the wall, pulling it off.

Inside she found her old little plastic baggie with a matchbox, her necklace with the house key on it and the poem from all those years ago.

" _Your hair is winter fire, January embers. My heart burns there too_ ," she read even though it was so old and dirty, remembering how she had read it in the bathtub when she'd realized it was in her bag. She had known it had to be one of the boys, because it wasn't there until after she had gotten home from the quarry. She thought it was Bill, still did... and that thought made her sadness and guilt grow, even as the memories came back.

She was smiling at the poem, unaware of Mrs. Kersh standing down the hall, watching her. Mrs. Kersh waddled away, Beverly grinning softly at the poem, remembering that it was the first and only poem she'd ever gotten. She folded it back over, pocketing it. She knew deep down, this was her token.

She found herself in the living room, Mrs. Kersh putting on an old record.

"There. I do apologize," Mrs. Kersh said. "It gets so very hot here this time of year," she said, sitting across from Beverly as they both took their teacups.

"It's fine," Beverly said, grinning slightly as she took a drink.

"Well, you feel like you could just about die," Mrs. Kersh said and Beverly frowned at her cup.

"But you know what they say about Derry," Mrs. Kersh said as Beverly looked at her, smiling again. "'No one who dies here ever really dies'," she said, grinning strangely at Beverly as the clocked ticked. She was staring at her for a good few moments, so still it was like she wasn't even breathing. That same odd grin on her face. "But tell me, how is it being back in Derry?" Mrs. Kersh asked suddenly, the grin turning into a curious frown before slurping at her teacup.

"It's good. Strange," Beverly said, a strange sense of foreboding pooling in her gut, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling, goosebumps running over her skin.

"Strange?" Mrs. Kersh asked, fanning herself with her shirt. "Oh, my," she said. "Strange, how?" she asked and Beverly saw bits of her skin on her chest were scabbed over.

She didn't have time to answer before she heard an oven timer dinging. "Oh. I had some cookies in the oven before you came," Mrs. Kersh said. "You stay right there," she said before getting up and heading to the kitchen.

"I really... I shouldn't impose... I'm gonna..." Beverly tried to say but Mrs. Kersh shook her head.

"No, no, no. I insist," she said as the record started skipping, the old woman heading into the kitchen.

Beverly looked around, looking more closely at the pictures on the wall, seeing all kinds of people in them.

"Mrs. Kersh, are these your family?" Beverly asked.

"Yes, dear," Mrs. Kersh said from the kitchen. "My father came to this country with $14 dollars in his pocket. And he didn't ask for a handout the way that people come in here these days," Mrs. Kersh said as Beverly saw a picture of twins. "You know what he did?" Mrs. Kersh asked.

"What did he do, Mrs. Kersh?" Beverly asked, looking at a picture on the wall that was across from the opening to the hallway and kitchen. "My fadder joined the circus," Mrs. Kersh said, her voice changing and gaining more of an accent.

Beverly's mouth opened into a frown as she looked at one picture in particular, that of a man and his daughter, recognizing and remembering the wagon behind him that said on it, The Great Pennywise the Dancing Clown. And those eyes, looking in two different directions, she recognized and remembered at once. The music was becoming distorted. But then, the daughter in the picture began to melt away, then so did the man, and the wagon, and the background.

Beverly blinked and saw Pennywise the Dancing Clown, dressed in his suit much like Italian opera clowns, his face painted white with red lipstick on his lips and red lines running from the corners of his mouth up his cheeks and stopping above his eyes. He was grinning at her, ominous yellow eyes looking in two different directions. The background behind him that of the sewers.

Next to him, however, was a boy Beverly had no trouble at all recognizing at once. It was Bill Denbrough, still only just a teenage boy, with his reddish hair and his really blue eyes... but his face was painted white like a clown's too. He even had red lipstick on his lips, a red ball on his nose like an old clown... he was wearing a baggy, bright yellow jumpsuit with orange pompoms on the front, with purple and teal, puffy sleeves, a sleeveless black vest with pink lining, and a ruffled collar that had white on the top, purple and teal stripes in the middle, and white again on the bottom. On his hands were two pure white gloves. He too was grinning, though he was looking right at Beverly instead.

It wasn't just the picture of Bill being dressed as a clown that bothered Beverly though. She knew that Pennywise could easily assume a form just like Bill's, though she wondered why he wasn't a rotting corpse like everyone else was. Or some other monster. What bothered her most was where Pennywise's other hand was. On top of Bill's, on Bill's stomach, which was huge and swollen, almost as though he had a balloon underneath that jumpsuit, but Beverly, deep down, knew it wasn't a literal balloon under that jumpsuit. It was Bill's belly. A very _pregnant_ belly.

Around his shoulders was Pennywise's arm, and on his shoulder, farthest from the clown, was Pennywise's gloved hand, gripping his shoulder in a way Beverly knew all too well. Possessively.

She gave a shaky breath. "Bill," she said quietly, just above a whisper.

Without any warning, the picture of Bill winked at her, his grin growing. Beverly gave a yelp and backed away from the picture as blood started pooling out of the frame.

"I was always Daddy's little girl," Mrs. Kersh said from the shadows as Beverly slowly turned around. "What about you?" she asked, though her voice was slowly becoming deeper, almost more manly, but it was really more monstrous. She could hear Pennywise talking.

"Are you still his little girl, Beverly?" Pennywise asked her as he assumed a form. Beverly breathed heavily, slowly backing away. "Are you?" he asked, his voice turning monstrously deep. Inhuman.

She could hear the stomping footsteps approaching quickly. A before from the shadows of the hallway, came an old hag, completely naked, breasts pratically flapping, her eyes bulging as her hair stuck upwards like Frankenstein's bride, growling at her. Shrieking inhumanly and Beverly began backing away, face contorting with fear as the hag kept shrieking at her, chasing her around the small apartment.

"Mustn't lie to our father!" multiple voices said from multiple, grotesque mouths on the hag's throat before she was cackling madly. Beverly made her way to the door, which was locked.

She yanked on it, the doorknob rattling obnoxiously as she turned her head to see behind her. "Help!" Beverly cried, banging on the door.

"Run, run, run," Pennywise said and Beverly turned to see a door at the end of the hallway opening up slowly, the man from the picture sitting in what looked like the inside to Pennywise's, the real Pennywise's, wagon. He was wearing brown pants with overall straps, and a white shirt underneath. He was slowly turning towards her, only bits of brown hair on either side of his head, the top of it bald. "You haven't changed anything yet," he said quietly.

He turned his entire face towards her, that of a younger man with a nasty look on his face. "You haven't changed their futures... not even Stanley's..." he said, a small smile forming on his drool covered lips.

Beverly watched as he applied the white makeup to his face. "You... You haven't saved any of them..." Pennywise said. Beverly watched as he covered his face with the white paint. "Certainly not _my_ Billy..." he added, grinning darkly as his hair started to turn bright ginger and more was added to his head, spiking it up on either side, the brown fading away. "Close your eyes, Bev," he said.

Anger stirred amidst that fear and that guilt at the mention of Bill's name. "Fuck you!" she yelled.

"If you don't believe," Pennywise said, his entire face white now, as he pressed his fingers against his face, digging his nails into the top of his head, cutting into the skin and blood seeped from the cuts, dripping down his face menacingly. "Close them and see," he said, grinning slightly.

Anger turned to rage. "YOU KILLED BILL!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face.

Pennywise giggled. "Me? Kill Billy?" he asked, giggling. "How silly!" he said, still laughing. "No, Bev... that was you... and Stanley... and Eddie... Richie... Fat Boy...." she felt angry at his nickname for Ben. "And good ol' Mikey..." Pennywise giggled again. "He's not telling you everything, Bevvy... Mikey's got a secret... a dark, dirty little secret..." Pennywise cackled.

"Fuck you!" Beverly cried.

He was just trying to turn her against Mike. To cause discord between them so they'd be split up again and yet... Beverly had never been a good liar but somewhere, deep inside of her heart and the pit of her stomach, she knew Pennywise wasn't lying... but... what would Mike be hiding from them?

Pennywise kept grinning at her. "Oh, we'll have lots of little girls," he giggled insanely. "Lots and lots of them... they'll all be daddy's little girls..." he said, pointing at himself, grinning ear to ear.

"Fucking freak!" Beverly yelled, not comprehending what the fuck he was talking about.

His grin grew. "That's what he said..." and with that, he started laughing, almost cackling, evilly. _Knowingly_.

Beverly screamed as she opened the door finally, running out of the apartment and the building, running into the street below and when she turned around, she saw that the building was charred over, smoked over as though it had been caught on fire and briefly she wondered if that was how her father had died... She thought of what Pennywise had said... Mike was hiding something from them... and... none of them lasted another twenty years after this cycle...

A lump formed in her throat as her mind as itself the next question. Could monsters, creatures like Pennywise, It... _breed_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I skipped the drugging scene since that scene bothered me. Like, dude, not okay and Bill just forgave him? Like, probably figured there was more important shit to deal with, obviously but still... not cool dude. So just imagine the same shit, but with Stan who feels more guilty than he does afraid  
> \- Also I wasn't sure with the second clubhouse scene on when that was, but I figured after the Pennywise fight, or in this story, lack of a fight  
> \- So, I think all of the Losers are going to get their own chapters and I've gotta admit, I am looking forward to Stan's!  
> \- Also, with Beverly's mom, I read that she died in childbirth on the Wikipedia so like... was that what happened? Because her mom was alive in the book, I think, but she wasn't seen or talked about at all in the miniseries. Oh well  
> \- How was it? Next chapter coming to your Archive soon!


	9. R + E(Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Not sure if this chapter is too short or not, but I'll probably be posting up Stan and Ben's soon anyway. Ben's might also be a little short, it's Stan's that are going to be the big thing, especially his second one  
> \- I also know that Eddie's encounter was the last one, but it all took place in the same day so it doesn't really matter  
> \- Warning for homophobic language  
> \- Start of something in this chapter, R + E  
> \- No smut(sorry)

Seeing the old Derry movie theater was pretty nostalgic for Richie. Seeing that it was closed down, boarded up and papers plastered on the insides of the windows, was kind of depressing. Breaking in had been easy and as Richie looked around, seeing all the dust and cobwebs, he felt kind of sad but nostalgic at the same time. He stopped in front of a particular arcade game, one he was starting to remember all too well. It had been his favorite. _Street Fighter_.

He put a coin into the token machine, seeing a little silver token already there. He took it, his chest clenching as the fog inside his mind started to clear, memories coming back to him as he looked at the literal token. The sound of buttons being mashed echoed in his ears and he looked at the game, seeing himself when he was younger, mashing the buttons, standing next to a boy he'd found cool.

The boy had had blonde hair, curly no less, and blue eyes. Looking back on it now, Richie guessed he should've seen the resemblance between the boy and Bowers. He really should've.

"Come on, you. Come on," young Richie had said, mashing the buttons skillfully.

"Ken, you little bitch..." the boy, Connor, Richie remembered his name, had said. "You're fucking good," the boy had said after Richie's character beat his.

They'd done that little movement with the fingers and Richie's stomach felt fluttery and nervous. Connor was _cool_.

"Ah, well, I gotta go," Connor had said, turning to walk away.

"Hey!" Richie had said, his stomach nervous and fluttery, twisting but he just wanted to hang out, just a little longer. Maybe another game... "Um..." Richie wasn't acting like his usual cool, foul-mouthed self. He felt like a schoolgirl, and he was sure if he started giggling, he'd have to be home schooled like Mike. He grabbed the token, the same one he would grab 27 years later. "How about we go again?" he had asked, fully aware of the weird stare Connor was giving him. "Play some more, you know?" he said, unaware of Bowers coming around the corner with Belch Higgins and Victor Criss flanking either side of him. "Only if you want to," Richie added awkwardly.

Now he saw Bowers and he felt afraid because not only would Bowers probably steal the coin, he'd probably beat Richie's ass just for the fun of it. Connor turned around too, seeing Bowers walking up to them. Connor turned back to him and Richie could see the fear in his eyes. He was afraid of Bowers too.

"Dude, why are you being weird?" Connor had asked, loudly. Then, of course, it was self-preservation when Richie thought about it. But it was for Connor, not Richie. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend," he said, just as loudly.

"Whoa, I... I didn't..." Richie said, feeling awkward. All he'd wanted was another game with a cool kid... or at least a kid he'd thought was cool...

"What the fuck's going on here?" Bowers asked, approaching them with a dirty look on his face.

Richie was fully aware of all the stares they were receiving, because nobody wanted to be on Bowers' bad side, and Connor had made it a bigger spectacle than Richie had meant. All he'd wanted was just another round...

"You assholes didn't tell me your town is full of little fairies," Connor had said and Richie's stomach had dropped, realizing Connor knew Bowers.

"Richie fucking Tozier?" Bowers had asked. "What? You're trying to bone my little cousin?" that word was when Richie realized it, and wished he'd never grabbed the stupid token off the arcade game. Richie had shook his head, just a little, but it hadn't mattered. Bowers was fucking nuts with a short temper. "Get the fuck out of here, faggot!" Bowers had screamed at him, face contorting with anger and disgust.

Richie had walked out, backing away and turning back.

"Fucking move!" Bowers shouted, making sure all eyes were on Richie as he walked out of the arcade.

Adult Richie Tozier remembered that day all too well. All he'd wanted with Connor was another game of _Street Fighter_ because he had been cool and looked cool too, maybe even like a future heart breaker for the ladies, but Connor was Bowers' cousin. Just another homophobic asshole.

Richie remembered running to the Derry park, the one with the giant statute of the lumberjack with the giant ax. He remembered crying on the park bench right down in front of the lumberjack statue, rubbing his eyes. Just one more round of _Street Fighter_ , but that had been too much to ask for. That incident had scared Richie too much so that he wasn't able to tell the actual boy how he'd felt. Because it was like what they said about when a boy liked a girl, he pulled her pigtails. Not literally in this sense, but teasing was the funniest part. And it didn't help that Eddie had the funniest reactions.

Richie never told Eddie, he remembered that now. Keeping his preferences to himself, trying to pretend to be someone he wasn't. A womanizer. He'd always loved teasing Eddie because he had the funniest reactions, always getting pissy and ranting about some sort of virus or infection. Deep down, when he had been a kid, he figured Eddie wouldn't really care, but he'd warn Richie about the health risks being gay posed, because of the AIDS epidemic in the 80's. That, and Richie didn't exactly like the mental image of getting smothered by Eddie's mom if she thought he was hitting on her son.

Richie, adult Richie, was at the park now, remembering his one-on-one encounter with the clown. It had been after what they'd done to Bill and after thinking back on it, he wondered if he should've told Eddie. He'd never actually apologized to Bill after their fight, and never got the chance after leaving him to die, alone and scared, in a shitty sewer system with a psychotic, man-eating clown monster. And now Eddie was married, to a woman, and judging by the pictures Eddie had shown them, he married his mother.

He remembered sitting at that park bench, crying as a kid. Connor and Bowers effectively embarrassing him in front of the arcade kids and since Derry was a small town, word would spread pretty fucking fast. Just like what happened to Beverly. And then, he really remembered.

"Want a kiss, Richie?" a deep, scary voice had asked him.

He put his glasses back on and quickly realized the statue of the lumberjack had disappeared. **_Fucking disappeared_**. Young Richie was breathing heavily, wondering where the statue had gone... wondering what was happening at that moment...

He heard rustling beside him and turned, gasping and there it was. The giant lumberjack, mouth open and wide, black and gray around the mouth just under the nose, jagged teeth inside. It had roared at him and Richie had screamed as the statue started moving on its own, standing on its feet and raising the end of the axe, trying to impale Richie with the bottom of it and destroying the park bench once Richie had rolled off it and started running away, the lumberjack quickly followed after him and chasing him around the park.

It had swung the axe at him, pulling up dirt and grass, whacking the pavilion as it kept chaisng him. Like every horror movie ever, Richie was tripping on his feet as he kept running, the last jab into the ground knocking him down. He could hear the clown's evil laughter coming from the lumberjack's wide open mouth and he thought he was going to die. He'd never tell Eddie the truth... never see his friends again...

He thought of his friends... and Bill popped into his mind. He remembered the missing kid poster, his thoughts running rampant.

"This isn't real..." Bill had told him and Richie had believed him.

"It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real..." Richie kept repeating, thinking of Eddie and Bill.

He quickly put his glasses back on when he realized the final whack never came and saw the lumberjack had disappeared. The park bench and the pavilion weren't destroyed at all, the ground wasn't torn up, and the lumberjack was still on his stand.

"I think I just shit my pants," Richie said, flopping back onto the ground, exhausted and scared.

Now, adult Richie remembered that as he heard cheerleaders chanting in the park. He saw that same statue standing there, smiling a happy smile and holding the axe on his shoulder.

"Canal Days Festival," an unfamiliar voice told Richie, bumping into him and handing him a flyer.

"Shit," Richie said, taking the flyer as the guy walked right past him.

"Closing performance is tonight," the guy said. "Hope to see you there, handsome," the guy said, turning his head back and Richie saw that he had no fucking teeth or even gums and his throat was bitten out, bones sticking out of his neck, the hole in the shape of a human mouth. He also had a really shitty haircut... The guy turned his head back and threw the rest of the flyers on the ground.

Richie looked at the stupid flyer and his stomach dropped when he saw what was on it. His own face, smiling and happy, but it was an invitation to a funeral. _His funeral_. His heart started beating, fear creeping down his spine, goosebumps crawling on his skin like spiders.

"Did you miss me, Richie?" an all too familiar voiced asked him and he looked up to see Pennywise sitting on the shoulder of the lumberjack statute, dozens of red balloons in his hand that formed a triangle.

"Oh, fuck!" Richie said, backing away, distinctly aware of the eyes staring at him from behind.

However, what scared him more than Pennywise, and made his insides burn and clench with guilt, was what was on his lap. Or rather, who.

It was Bill. Young Bill, not an adult Bill. With his reddish hair and his blue eyes, but his face was painted over like a clown's, white on the skin, red lips, and a red ball on his nose like those older clowns. He was wearing a bright yellow jumpsuit with orange pompoms on it, a black sleeveless vest with pink lining, a ruffled collar, striped slevees that were puffy (purple and teal, like the middle ruffle), and the top and bottom ruffles were white. He was grinning as he leaned back against Pennywise's chest, Pennywise's arm wrapped around his middle, pulling him close.

"'Cause we've missed you," Bill said with Bill's voice, not even a single stutter in his words.

"No one wants to play with the clown anymore," Pennywise said, pouting.

" _I_ do," Bill said cheerfully, looking far to happy to be the real Bill Denbrough.

Richie knew it was an illusion, but it still didn't hurt any less or make him feel less guilty or afraid.

"Play a game with me, would ya?" Pennywise asked Richie, grinning. "How about _Street Fighter_?" he asked. "Oh, yes. You like that one, don't you?" Pennywise said, still grinning. Then, his expression changed into a frown. "Or maybe Truth or Dare?" he said, grinning again.

"Jesus," Richie said, wanting to panic so badly.

"Oh, you wouldn't want anyone to pick 'truth' though, would ya, Richie?" Bill said as Pennywise started floating in the air, leaving Bill on the statue's shoulder. "You wouldn't want anyone to know what you're hiding," Bill said, grinning.

Pennywise started laughing as the sky seemed to darken. "I know your secret. Your dirty, little secret," Pennywise started singing as he floated down towards the ground and towards Richie. "Oh, I know your secret," he kept singing. "Your _**dirty**_ , _little secret_ ," he sang, his voice doing deeper on the word dirty. He started approaching Richie, who backed away, nearly falling again. "Should I tell them, Richie?" Pennywise asked him.

Richie looked up at Bill, who was grinning at him, waving his legs back and forth.

"This isn't happening. This isn't real," Richie said, closing his eyes and imagining Pennywise disappearing.

"How hurtful," Bill said suddenly and Richie opened his eyes again, looking up at him. "I'm not going to happen?" Bill asked him, tilting his head sideways like a cat. "I'm not real enough for you, Richie?" he asked him, frowning. He then grinned, eyes turning ominous yellow, telling Richie that it wasn't really Bill but another one of Pennywise's illusions. "It'll be real enough for _Eddie_!" Pennywise's voice cackled out of Bill's mouth.

Richie gasped as Pennywise did his little slow dance towards him, slowly backing away as he did.

"Oh, it's not _really_ , _really_ him, Richie," Pennywise giggled, smiling brightly. "At least..." he said, his eyes flashing, knowing something secret that Richie didn't. "That one up there isn't... Not yet anyways," Pennywise said, giggling.

"You're not real... this isn't happening... this isn't real..." Richie said, closing his eyes again, squeezing them shut. He repeated that to himself before opening his eyes again and he saw Pennywise coming at him, quickly and shaking from side to side, laughing playfully, tauntingly.

Richie screamed before taking off running. Ignoring Pennywise's grumbling. He decided right then and there that he was going back to the townhouse, packing up his shit, and going home... Right after he made sure Eddie was okay.

"Come back and play!" he heard Pennywise yelling. "Come back and play with the clown!" he heard the clown say, his voice becoming distorted as the Bill on the lumberjack's shoulder grinned knowingly, menacingly. It was just a matter of time now. Oh, the fun was _really_ getting started now...

**********

Eddie was just trying to get to the pharmacy to pick up his prescription, faintly remembering Mr. Keene and his daughter, Greta. He bumped into some asshole's balloons on the way, however, having to slap them away.

"Asshole!" he said, throwing his arms up and huffing.

The pharmacy was mostly the same as he remembered it with its white walls and shelves stocked full of stuff. He sighed as he stood at the counter, waiting for the pharmacist. He heard the sound of something ripping.

"Hello?" he called and he saw the pharmacist, who he could tell even from the distance was Mr. Keene, but balder and older by 27 years, in the background.

He was sniffing at something before he turned around, wiping at his nose.

"Can I help you?" Mr. Keene asked as he slowly approached the counter.

"Yeah, I called in... I had a prescription called in for Kaspbrak," Eddie said.

"Kaspbrak?" Mr. Keene asked and Eddie got a good look at him.

Same thin but large glasses, a wrinklier face, a balder head with white hair. He aged, horribly, after 27 years.

"It's an inhaler," Eddie said as Mr. Keene reached for the prescriptions that were already filled.

"Uh... Eddie Kaspbrak?" Mr. Keene asked, reading the name on the bag.

"Mmm-hmm. That's me," Eddie said.

"I remember you," Mr. Keene said, looking up at Eddie, who saw an older Greta Keene in the background.

"Yeah," Eddie said quietly, smiling a little.

"How's your mom?" Mr. Keene asked.

"Oh, uh... Well, she died a few years ago," Eddie said. "It's very sad. It was from liver cancer," Eddie said.

Mr. Keene looked at him funny, and Eddie was sure for a brief second, his eyes had flashed from a pale blue to an ominous yellow... the same shade of yellow that he could remember the clown's eyes being...

"Well, better cancer than stabbed in the back and out the front... eh, Eddie?" he asked, grinning.

"Uh... yeah... I-I guess..." Eddie said awkwardly.

"You just stay there... and I'll get you something," Mr. Keene said, grinning ominously as he walked to the back of the pharmacy.

"Okay..." Eddie said quietly, unnerved as he remembered walking in here as a kid.

He remembers Greta Keene sitting int hat same spot, reading some magazine, insulting him needlessly.

"You came here for your stinky breath pills?" young Greta had asked, glaring at him.

"My breath is fine," young Eddie had stammered. "Thank you."

"That's not what my dad said," Greta had said, approaching the counter. "He said you have a tumor," she had said. "On your dick," she had added.

Eddie just laughed a little, knowing she was joking or at least hoped she was. "But you don't take pills for..." he had started to say before wondering what exactly Mr. Keene might've said. "Wait, what did your dad say?" he had asked.

"There you go," Greta had said, giving him the prescription, not answering the question. "I hope your dick feels better," she had said before walking away from him.

Eddie had looked down at himself before quickly looking back up. "Thank you," he had said politely, taking his prescription and starting to walk away. "For the inhaler, not the penis thing," he added, starting to walk away, but he stopped when he heard his mother calling for him.

"Eddie!" her voice had called out for him.

He stopped for a moment, thinking it was just a trick of the mind, and was about to start walking again when he heard her crying for him again.

"Eddie bear!"

It was coming from a door that looked like it led into the basement of the pharmacy, though Eddie hadn't actually known that the pharmacy had a basement... a green sign with a white arrow and the word 'vaccines' on it in capital letters.

"Mommy?" Eddie had called as he crept down the stairs, his heartbeat slowly speeding up.

"Eddie, come help me! Quick!" his mom had cried from the depths of the basement.

Eddie went further into the basement before gagging at the godawful smell of it. It smelled like sewage and death, as though a pipe had burst. He quickly pulled his inhaler out, inhaling deeply from it. But he stopped when he saw body parts inside the small jars on the shelf in front of him, the water inside yellow and disgusting.

"Mommy?" he had called, venturing deeper into the basement, the fear growing stronger and stronger.

"Eddie?" his mom had called. "Eddie! Help me!" she pleaded. "Quick, help me!" she cried.

"Mommy?" Eddie had called again.

"Eddie bear, come help me, quick!" his mom had cried again.

Eddie passed a tray full of needles that were sticking upwards, all of them looking dirty, rusted, and used. He was in a basement full of dirty, old medical equipment and he heard glass shattering under his feet. He yelped and bumped into the shelf next to him, getting tangled in old equipment, medical bags full of blood dangling by his head, screaming as he bumped into one thing and then the next.

"Eddie?" his mom had called for him and he stopped screaming.

"The fuck is she doing here?" Eddie had asked himself as he approached a curtain that covered the entire other side of the room, white and dirty and stained.

"What is taking you so long?" she had asked.

"I don't know. Why are you here?" Eddie had asked, afraid.

He pulled the curtain down and saw his mom strapped to an old hospital bed, like the ones for more violent, mental patients, a dirty, dim light beside her.

"Mommy!" Eddie had said, running to her immediately as he tried to undo the straps.

"He's coming! You gotta get me outta here!" Mrs. Kaspbrak had cried.

"Who's coming?" Eddie had asked, having a dreadful sort of feeling.

"Eddie," his mom had said and they both looked when they heard a rustling sound from the darkest part of the basement, just feet away from his mom and himself.

"What the fuck is that?" Eddie had asked, not caring that he was swearing in front of his mother.

They heard something growl, Eddie whimpering at the sound.

"Mommy," Eddie had whimpered.

"You gotta get me outta here," his mom had repeated, begging for him to help her. "He's coming!" she cried as the growling grew louder. "He's gonan kill me! Eddie! Help! Please, help me! He's going to infect me!" she had said urgently as something underneath a sheet came closer, snarling at them. "Eddie! He's gonna infect me! Eddie!"

Eddie grunted as he tried to undo the strap, his mom whimpering as the monster underneath the sheet drew closer and closer.

"Help me, Eddie! He's coming, Eddie!" Mrs. Kaspbrak had cried. "Eddie, hurry!" she had begged.

Eddie undid the strap around her chest, watching it fall to the floor.

"He's gonna infect me, Eddie!" Mrs. Kaspbrak cried as the creature snarled at them, coming closer.

Eddie started screaming. "Oh, my God! Eddie!" Mrs. Kaspbrak cried. "Hurry up, Eddie!" she begged, the chain on the ceiling rattling.

The sheet was pulled off, revealing the leper that Eddie feared most. It snarled at them as Eddie started screaming again.

"Eddie!" Mrs. Kaspbrak screamed.

They both started screaming as the leper came as close as the chains would allow.

"I can't do it!" Eddie had screamed, terrified and knowing deep down that something was wrong.

"Eddie! Eddie!" Mrs. Kaspbrak had screamed.

"I'm sorry. I can't do it," Eddie had told her screaming as the leper reached for his mother.

"I knew you would leave me, Eddie!" Mrs. Kaspbrak had said, sobbing and they both started screaming as the leper's snarls continued.

The last thing Eddie saw was the chain connected to the wall breaking, the leper being set free, and he pounced on Mrs. Kaspbrak. He could still hear her terrified screaming. Eddie started screaming as he turned around and ran the other way, trying his hardest to ignore the screams of his mother.

"Eddie!" she had cried out for him, but he didn't answer her.

Adult Eddie Kaspbrak stood in the basement now

"What's all this shit doing here?" he asked himself, seeing the curtain was up again. "Why is that curtain still here?" he asked. "Okay. All right..." he said quietly. "Are you gonna do this, Eds?" he asked himself. "It's just a memory. It's just a memory. You're fine," he tried to convince himself. "Deep breath. Deep breath," he said, his heart already beating faster than normal, his spine tingling, his skin cold and covered with goosebumps. "Okay. You gonna do it?"

Eddie closed his eyes and opened the curtain, seeing that it was empty. His mother was nowhere in sight. He sighed before turning, only to come face to face with the leper that began roaring at him. Eddie start screaming as it pounced on him.

"Shit! Oh, shit! Oh, fuck!" he yelled as it pushed him against the wall, tongue long and inhuman, trying to get at him, dirty hands touching Eddie's face.

Eddie grunted as he tried to push the leper off of him, knowing deep down that it was one of Pennywise's illusions to scare him.

"Stop! Stop!" he yelled as the leper snarled.

Eddie suddenly realized his hands were on the leper's throat... choking him... he could hear the leper choking... Eddie was getting the upper hand, pushing the leper back against the other wall, choking him, not relenting. The leper's hands let go of Eddie's face. He could see that the leper was feeling pain from being choked.

"That's right!" Eddie yelled triumphantly. "Fuck you!" he yelled, his mouth open and then, he was choking.

The leper started vomiting all over him and Eddie swore he could hear _Angel of the Morning_ playing as he felt like vomiting, the taste the worst thing imaginable times infinity... and death. He could feel it seeping into his clothes and touching his skin, spewing all over his face, black in color, a tarlike substance, yet still liquid enough to be disgusting. He was almsot certain the leper was grinning. Eddie started screaming , trying to wipe the substance from his face. He backed away and looked up again, seeing that the leper had disappeared.

"What the fuck?" he asked before turning to run out, but he gave a sharp cry of shock when he saw someone standing in front of him. Someone he hadn't seen in 27 long years...

"Hiya, Eds," Bill Denbrough was standing in front of him, only... Eddie knew it had to be another one of Pennywise's tricks because why the hell would Bill be wearing an old clown suit? And he was still only just a kid...

"Fuck!" Eddie shouted, backing away.

Bill was dressed like an older clown, not like Pennywise's Italian opera clown type but instead looked like an old circus clown. Baggy, bright yellow jumpsuit, orange pompoms on it, with a black sleeveless vest with pink lining, puffy striped sleeves (teal and purple, just like the top and bottom ruffles around his neck), and a white ruffle in the middle. His face was even white, with red lipstick, and a red ball on his nose. But instead of having Bill's pale blue eyes, he had Pennywise's yellow ones... dangerous yellow...

"Miss me, Eddie?" Bill asked, walking towards Eddie who was quickly backing away, fully aware he might just be getting himself backed into a corner.

"Fuck... fuck... fuck..." Eddie was a grown man, forty years old, and he would admit, he whined.

"Because I missed you... so much..." Bill said, grinning the same grin Eddie remembered seeing on Pennywise's face when he first saw him in the backyard of Neibolt. "Well, not as much as Richie..." Bill said and Eddie trembled.

 _What the fuck did he do to Richie?_ Was Eddie's first thought.

"I know you're a fucking fake! You're not the real Bill!" Eddie yelled, pointing at the fake Bill.

Fake Bill, really Pennywise, just smiled at him. "Nope," he said, popping the p. "But I will be," he said, smiling cheerfully. "You'd better get running, Eds. Run, run, run, fast as you can... unless you want _Richie_ to be a dead man," Bill said with Bill's voice, before he was laughing and then cackling, with Pennywise's voice.

"Fuck!" Eddie yelled, running past him and trying to ignore the laughter coming from behind him, running out of the basement and back into the pharmacy.

He whimpered as got to the door, shouting indistinctly when it wouldn't open, pulling on it as hard as he could. He gasped when he realized Greta was standing beside him.

"What?" he asked, turning to her with wide eyes.

"Push, don't pull, you moron," she said, not having changed one bit in 27 years, even blowing gum just the same.

"Oh," Eddie said, laughing a little as he looked at the door and the sign. "Thanks," he said before running out, the bells jingling behind him.

He decided then and there he was going back to the townhouse to take a shower, a long one at that, take his medications, pack up everything, and he was going home... Right after he made sure Richie was okay...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The Bill encounters don't really matter much in this one, not really  
> \- Should I do Ben's chapter next or Stan's?  
> \- Also, that kid playing Street Fighter was a prick  
> \- Anyone ever watch Cabin in the Woods?(This is an important question)


	10. Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Ben's chapter before Stan's, but Stanley boy's chapter is coming soon ;)  
> \- No smut(sorry)  
> \- Also, something I just realized today (and I feel dumb for not having realized it before) is that Pennywise called him Egg Boy, not just because of the dead kid from the Easter Egg hunt, but because that's a reference to the book version of Ben when he stomped as many of the eggs that he could

Ben remembered how he had spent most of his time alone in the library before he had met Bill, Richie, Eddie, and Stan in the Barrens, running from Bowers who had just cut an H into his belly, trying to carve his name into Ben's skin, the scar still lingering despite all of the exercise Ben had forced himself through just to get rid of the fat and keep it gone. Sort of like the scar on his hand, the promise that they would come back to Derry. Faded away like his memories until Mike called him. Ben knew Beverly Marsh before anyone else, because they had shared social studies together. He missed those days, when he and Beverly would talk together before they all started to drift apart. Mere faces in the hallway, guilt written all of them... fading away...

He sighed as he passed by a woman and approached the school, which looked just the same as it had 27 years ago. He even found the social studies room, noticing a little turtle on the teacher's desk. It too looked the same, even the desks looked the same, as though they hadn't been changed in years. Ben found his old des, remembering.

The school bell was ringing and students were chattering with each other.

"Come on, let's get the fuck outta here," one of the boys had said.

"Wake up, fat ass," another boy had said, slapping Ben on the back of his head as he passed by him. "Fucking loser," Ben had heard him say before he was left alone in the classroom.

Ben sighed as the door closed, gathering his things. He turned on his walkman, _Cover Girl_ playing and he started to pack up his stuff. Behind him, a figure jumped up and stood in front of hte light on the projector. Ben looked up and gasped when he saw the shadow on the screen, looking like the clown's shadow.

He turned immediatley and saw instead of the clown, Beverly standing right behind him.

"Whoa," she had said. "Easy. It's just me," she had said, smiling. "What are you and your little budies up to in here?" she had asked him, approaching and sitting in the desk next to him.

"Oh. Those guys are definitely not my buddies," Ben had said.

"No, I meant your real friends," Beverly had said and Ben remembered seeing a cigarette in her hand. "Joey. Jonathan. Donnie. Danny," she had said, still smiling.

"Oh," Ben had said, turning his walkman off.

He looked at Beverly, who was lighting the cigarette.

"Are you smoking in school?" he had asked.

She smiled at him, pointing upwards.

"Secret hideout," she had said, showing him that the camera was right above their heads. "Don't tell anyone."

Ben sat there, rather awkwardly, just staring at his desk while she flickered with her lighter.

"You okay, new kid?" Beverly had asked him.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," Ben had said, though it was a lie but not really, he was mostly just sort of sad.

He'd had friends for the first time in a long time, since coming to Derry. Nobody ever wanted to be friends with the fat kid, and now they were broken up. Except him and Beverly. He thought that anyway.

"I guess I'm just worried that we're not all gonna be the same after the fight," he had told her truthfully.

Beverly was looking at the flame on her lighter, her eyes shiny.

"As long as we can still hang out, who cares?" she had told him.

Those words meant a lot to him, effectively making his heart and belly flutter happily. Like a butterfly flapping its wings, taking flight with a friend. They meant a lot to him, more than he had thought Beverly Marsh would ever know... Ben liked her. Really, _really_ liked her. She was so smart and so brave, so kind and pretty, not at all like what everyone said she was, and when Ben was with her, he felt happy. He felt that, if he was a Loser, then at least he was a Loser with Beverly. And that was better than being a winner any day.

"You really mean that?" he had asked, his heart hopeful and his smile dorky. He was happy.

She had looked at him again, her eyes so bright and a smile on her face. Looking back on it now, 27 years later, Ben figured he should've realized it was a faux happy expression and a look of _knowing_. Kind of like when someone was about to play a prank, a particularly nasty one, on someone else.

"Well, yeah, of course, dummy," she had said, grinning and placing her hand on his. "You and me," she had said, still smiling, eyes still shining.

Looking back on it now, Ben realized he should've figured out that her hand was _so cold_ because she wasn't the real Beverly Marsh. Just Pennywise pretending. At the time, he'd thought cold hands meant a warm heart, and Beverly Marsh had the warmest heart around, but he remembered that he'd thought wrong.

Ben remembered feeling his heart fluttering in his chest, the two butterflies joined by dozens of other happy little butterflies, even if his stomach was making knots with nervous fingers. He was going for it... he started leaning towards her, wondering what her lips, always so pretty with pink lipstick on, would feel like...

"Oh, my God!" she had said, pulling away and even laughing a little, almost as though this entire thing _amused_ her.

It was the laughter that hurt him more. He felt his heart drop into his stomach, embarrassed.

"I meant as a friend," she had said and Ben remembered feeling his heart break into a million pieces. He never knew the word _friend_ could make him feel like he was getting stabbed in the heart by Bowers' knife.

His face felt hot, surely red with shame and embarrassment. The disappointment wasn't nearly as bad as the blatant rejection and the embarrassment and even the regret... He was so embarrassed...

"You actually thought I could like someone as fat and gross and disgusting like you?" Beverly had asked him and Ben knew she was still smiling.

His heart, on the other hand, was not smiling at all. It actually felt like it was crying, and his eyes felt warm and stingy, ready to start crying. Those millions of little pieces that made up his shattered heart felt like a hammer was being taken to them, smashing them into dust and then nothing at all. He could hear her stupid lighter clicking as she kept talking.

"No matter how many stupid poems--" her voice had started to turn deeper, almost _demonic_... "-- you write..."

Ben turned back towards her and felt his heart stop. She was grinning at him, not happy or even friendly, but sinister and _evil_. Her skin was flecked with red patches of burnt skin, her scalp and her hair literally on fire. Her eyes were bright orange, illuminated by the blazing flames on her head. Ben gasped, getting up out of his seat, his heart already starting to pound. He got up and ran out of the room, nearly tripping and he knew the fake Beverly, really the clown, was chasing after him.

"'Your hair is witner fire'," the fake Beverly's voice had said as Ben ran through the hallway, the monster chasing after him, doing a little dance as it followed. "'January embers'," he had heard right behind him as he ran down the small flight of stairs, running for the door, his legs carrying him as fast as they could. His heart was pounding in his chest, his spine tingling, his bones and blood turning cold, and his stomach clenching painfully.

He nearly cried when he saw the chain and padlock on the doors, knowing it was a trick from Pennywise but knowing it was a trick didn't help him open the door. He shook the handles, the chain rattling. He turned around when he heard the monster talking again.

"'My heart burns there, too'," it had said, the brightness from the fire coming closer and closer...

Ben turned and saw his locker down the hall and ran for it, twisting the padlock as quickly as he could without messing up the combiation. The second the door was open, he was squeezing himself into his locker, his heart racing in his chest, feeling ready to burst out like a cartoon character.

He looked through the slots on the locker, seeing that the light from the fake Beverly's head was gone... so maybe It was gone too... Ben pulled the yearbook page out of his pocket, having torn it out and taken to carrying it around with him wherever he went, almost as though it was some sort of good luck charm. He saw Beverly's signature, signed with two little hearts. She was the only person who had signed his yearbook, Ben not having bothered to ask the others, figuring they probably wouldn't want to. Beverly was his friend. She would never say those kinds of things. She was better than that. She was nice. Ben backed into his locker, unaware of the poster inside staring at him, grinning, eyes silver and gleaming.

"That's not the real Beverly," he had whispered to himself. "Beverly would never say anything like that," he had said, knowing in his heart that it was true. "She'd never say that."

She was better than that. It was part of why Ben liked her so much. She didn't see him as some loser new kid and some fat kid. Ben looked out of the slot, seeing nothing at all in the hallway. He backed into the locker again, unaware of Pennywise standing right behind him. Ben then turned his head, seeing the disturbing face on the clown and he screamed.

"Kiss me, Fat Boy," the clown had said, lips curved downwards into a face that Ben was sure meant he was disgusted.

Pennywise then gave a yell and Ben screamed as he fell out of his locker, falling on his bottom and back on the floor. It hurt, pain flaring up his back, and he tried to scramble away, panting. He watched, petrified, as Pennywise's head poked out of his locker, the clown slamming an arm on both sides of it and pulling himself out, his eyes blazing yellow. Ben slowly backed away, panting.

"Oh, nobody wants to kiss the fat boy," Pennywise had said tauntingly, pulling himself out of the locker as Ben slowly backed up, wishing he could stand but his legs felt like jelly, his fear keeping him down.

"Just leave me alone," Ben had said pleadingly, inching away.

"Alone?" Pennywise had asked him, grinning cruelly. "Oh, you've always been alone," he had said.

"That's not true," Ben had lied. Before Beverly and the others, he had no friends. But now he did, that was all that mattered... right? "I have real friends," he had said, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "Bill. Eddie. Mike. Stanley. Richie. Beverly," he had said quickly, still backing away as Pennywise inched closer and closer. "They're my real friends," he had said.

"Kiss me as if it were the last time," Pennywise had said before his face disappeared into the shadows until only his eyes were visible.

Ben grunted as he tried to pull himself up. Pennywise roared at him as he opened his mouth wide, wider than any human or animal mouth, hundreds upon hundreds of sharp little teeth ready to sink into Ben's flesh. Ben got up, stumbling, and ran, right into the janitor coming out of one of the classrooms.

"What the hell are you doing, kid?" he remembered the janitor snapping at him as he turned to see that Pennywise had disappeared.

Adult Ben Hanscom stood in the very same spot, sniffling as he walked away, remembering how much he hated being alone and why he had such bad claustrophobia. Being stuck in a tiny little locker when you're a bit... bigger than average was rough. Being stuck in a tiny little locker when you're a bit bigger than average with a man-eating, shapeshifting monster is in with you... well, the point was made. He knew already what his token was. The very same thing he'd held onto for 27 years, ever since that summer. Beverly's signature, the page from his yearbook. That was his token.

At the same time, he felt guilty. He knew Beverly didn't like him as anything more than a friend. He had kissed her that summer, he remembered that. He did it to bring her out of the catatonic state she was in when Pennywise had put her in the Deadlights. He remembered seeing her floating in the air, not moving. She hadn't even seemed to be _breathing_. Ben wondered if she remembered that yet, and if she would even remember it at all. But that wasn't what made him feel guilty.

What made him feel guilty, just like everyone else, was what they did to Bill. He remembered that, all too well. He'd urged Beverly to leave Bill just the same as he did. He was sure that nobody felt worse than Stan, not even himself, since he was the first one to leave, but... Bill had liked Beverly, Ben knew that. He knew moony eyes when he saw them, having them himself for Beverly. And he knew Beverly had felt something for Bill too, more than she did for Ben. Even if she and Ben had a nice kiss, and not just one for some play that Bill and Beverly were in together. For all Ben knew, Bill and Beverly could've ended up together, maybe married one day... and he'd been part of the reason why that hadn't happened.

He felt guilty, because of what he did to Bill, and because he knew Beverly would remember that he'd urged her to leave even though she'd clearly liked him. She had cared about him. They were supposed to be friends, the seven of them, and they had left him there to die. Stan was the main person responsible, but Ben was just as bad if not worse for urging Beverly to do the same. That's how he felt. Bill was dead, because of them... Ben knew he had to make this right...

Sniffling, Ben turned to go out the door but gave a startled scream when he saw Bill Denbrough standing in front of the doors, leaning against them just like Bowers had been leaning on the statue outside the library, right before he'd decided to try and carve his name into Ben's belly. All just because Ben was _chubby_.

"Fuck..." Ben said, backing away as ice seemed to form in his spine, his heart clenching and his stomach dropping. "Fuck..." he repeated, his back pressing against the lockers.

"Hiya, Ben," Bill said, grinning at him, his eyes yellow just like Pennywise's. "Miss me?" he asked.

"Fuck..." Ben repeated, his heart hammering.

The only odd thing about this fake Bil was that he looked fairly normal, with the exception of the clown suit and makeup. Most of the time, the kids of Derry were always corpses. Walking, talking, rotting corpses that haunted the living children of Derry. Or they were just some sort of monster, like Pennywise's form with Beverly's fiery head.

The clown costume consisted of a yellow jumpsuit, bright and baggy, with three orange pompoms running down the front, a fourth being twirled in Bill's fingers. The sleeves were puffy and striped, teal and purple colored, just like the middle ruffle, two white ruffles on the top and bottom, with a black, sleeveless vest that had pink lining. His face was painted white, his lips painted red, a red ball on his nose, and he was staring at Ben with a smile that didn't meet his eyes.

"Got rid of the competition, right, Fat Boy?" the fake Bill asked him, grinning just like Pennywise.

"Fuck... fuck..." Ben repeated, guilt chewing away at his insides as he looked at the person who was supposed to be his friend.

The person he'd let down... _It's your fault_ , his mind told him. _Could've convinced Stan to stay... made Beverly leave instead, you killed Bill_ , Ben's thoughts told him and he felt like crying. His emotions were out of his control. The fear and the guilt seemed to have even tag-teamed him, hitting him where it hurt the most.

"Didn't want little ol' Billy messing with the school _slut_ , so you _killed_ him," the fake Bill said, twirling the pompom in his fingers.

Ben felt angry instantly at the insulted directed at Beverly. He remembered the rock fight, him being the second person to throw a rock and even hit Bowers right in the head. Beverly was _not_ a slut.

"Fuck you!" he shouted angrily and the fake Bill just blew a raspberry at him, looking unimpressed now.

"That the best you can do, Stompzilla?" the fake Bill asked him.

Ben didn't know where he got _Stomp_ zilla, but supposed it was better than Fat Boy or Wide Load or Dough Boy or even Fat Ass. Or for whatever reason, and he remembered this now... _Egg_ Boy.

"I didn't kill Bill..." Ben choked out, a lump forming in his throat as tears welled in his eyes. "You did!" he shouted, inching away from the monster impersonating his friend.

The fake Bill grinned at him, throwing the pompom between his hands.

"Nope, nope," the fake Bill said before throwing the pompom at Ben.

Ben caught it, flinchign even though it felt like soft fabric. He was staring at the fake Bill with wide eyes, his heart thudding madly in his chest. He felt as though he was paralyzed, too afraid to move and too guilty at seeing the person who was supposed to be his friend. Who was _dead_ because of _him_. Bill's name was even the first one that had popped into his mind when he was telling the clown who his real friends were... all those years ago...

"Do me a favor, would ya?" the fake Bill asked, the grin gone and replaced with an expression that Ben didn't fully understand, mostly because it seemed so _strange_ to be on the face of one of Pennywise's illusions.

It was angry expression, one that met his unnaturally colored eyes, but not righteously angry, like what Bill's face used to look like. It was... well... was _protective_ the right word? Ben thought so the very second that word popped into his head.

"W-what?" Ben asked, stuttering a little, his feet feeling like cinderblocks.

The fake Bill's eyes hardened, the ominous yellow color bleeding into a angry, dangerous, and lethal blood red. A warning, Ben could tell.

"Stay away from them," the fake Bill said, his voice changing into Pennywise's, though it was so deep and deadly that it was almost _guttural_. " _All_ of them..." he said, looking down at Ben's feet.

"W-what the fuck are you talking about?" Ben asked, confused as hell and _fucking terrified_.

"I don't need this world's you killing them too," the fake Bill said darkly.

"W-what?" Ben asked, still not understanding. "What the fuck?" he said quickly, before blinking and yelping when the fake Bill vanished into thin air. He looked behind himself immediately, not seeing anyone or anything behind him.

His chest heaved as breath returned to him, the coldness in his spine seemingly melting away, as his heart slowed and his feet seemed to move again.

 _What the fuck was that supposed to mean?_ Ben thought instantly, not knowing what the hell the fake Bill, really Pennywise, was talking about. Or more specifically, from Pennywise's words, _who_ he was talking about.

"The hell you doing?" Ben jumped and gave a rather unmanly yelp when he heard someone talking, turning his head to see an older looking man, older than he was, standing in the doorway of a classroom. He wore a janitor's uniform, and looked unimpressed and annoyed.

"Leaving," Ben said instantly, inching along the lockers, his back sliding against the metal, as he made his way back to the doors and running out of them the minute his fingers touched the handle. He nearly tripped on his own two feet trying to get away.

He was going to go back to the library and meet up with the others, hoping, maybe even praying that MIke was right about the ritual. No matter how stupid it sounded. Because if Stanley Uris could come back, guilt driven or not, even borderline suicidal, then Ben knew they had to have a chance to kill Pennywise. And Ben really, honestly hoped that Bill's token, whatever it was, would be enough. He _prayed_ it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Stan's chapter is coming up next, but it's a two-parter(I'm a dick)  
> \- And there's a very special chapter coming up ;)  
> \- Favorite clown: Book, Curry, Skarsgard, or the one from Cabin in the Woods?


	11. Stan(Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I was too impatient to wait after only three days  
> \- This is the first part of either a two-parter, or a three-parter. Not sure yet. Might make the big thing I want for one of the chapters Mike instead, I haven't a clue

Stan had already gotten his token, which he thought it was stupid because it was just an old shower cap. He had seen the visions of the past, the tribe facing It after It had come to Earth (he didn't forgive Mike for that), but it didn't make the tribal ritual seem any less... _questionable_. Though, Stan supposed the tokens of memories thing made sense because he'd had Bill in his thoughts when he bought it, because he'd bought _seven_. Not six. He could've stayed with Mike at the library or stayed in the townhouse, but he figured that if anyone should find Bill's token, it should at least be him. Though, the worst part was, he had a feeling it had to do with Georgie or maybe even something Bill had owned, like maybe his old bike? What was Stan even supposed to be looking for if their tokens could be something as simple as a shower cap? Not only that, but where was he supposed to be looking?

He started crossing the street and jumped when a car nearly hit him, the driver honking his horn angrily.

"Whoa... I'm so sorry. Sorry," Stan said, moving out of the way.

"Watch it, you jerk!" the driver snapped before driving away.

"Sorry," Stan repeated pointlessly before he sighed, laughing shakily.

Some part of him wishes he'd just slit his wrists in the bathtub, because he really doesn't think he can handle this. He's not even sure on how he made it this far, other than that his guilt is his main driving factor. That, and he couldn't do that to Patty. He loves her, and she would've been the one to find him... he sighs as he shakes all over, trembling and he's jittery. Easily spooked, like a baby deer. He feels like something, anything at all, more than just a car, is going to pop out of nowhere and attack him. He passes by an older shop and then he sees it, in the window. It's older and more rusted btu he knows it's Silver almost instantly. It's Bill's old bike. What's it doing in a Second Hand store? Did Bill's parents just sell it after Bill never came back home?

Stan grimaces as he remembers that. None of them, himself, Eddie, Richie, Ben, Mike, or Beverly, had said a single word, nothing at all, to Mr. or Mrs. Denbrough about what happened to Bill. How could they? Who would even believe them? And they'd probably have been the ones to get into trouble for being in the Sewers in the first place.

It resulted in Mr. Denbrough isolating himself from the rest of the world, his grief of losing both of his sons and probably the guilt of how shitty he had treated Bill making him turn to the bottle. Stan wondered if Mr. Denbrough thought that Bill had run away because of how he had treated him... He had drank himself away last Stan had heard, nothing more than a depressed lump on the verge of death, too drunk to realize he was killing himself or just sober enough to hope he would die soon.

Mrs. Denbrough, on the other hand, had kept asking anyone and anything where her boys were at, getting caught more than once trying to go into the sewer, swearing up and down that she could hear Bill screaming in there. She went mad, not long after, and nobody had heard from Zack Denbrough in years. Nobody was even sure if he was alive anymore, and Bill's mom had killed herself in the asylum they'd put her in. Hung herself with her bed sheet, though she had bitten into her wrists until the skin broke and the veins bled, writing a single word in blood on the wall of her room. _It_.

Stan sighed, guilt eating away at him, as he entered the shop and even laughed a little. He remembered the bike rides they used to take together. Him, Bill, Eddie, Richie...

"Can I help you?" the voice of the shopkeeper asked.

"Yeah, I want to see about the..." Stan started to say before a lump formed in his throat, his tongue suddenly feeling like lead in his mouth, heavy.

He started to stutter on the word 'bike' and he could tell the shopkeeper wasn't very impressed, almost as though he thought Stan was doing it on purpose. He wasn't. He just couldn't stop it. He couldn't control it.

"Baseball card?" the shopkeeper asked as Stan kept struggling to speak, his words caught in his throat like a food that had started to choke him. "The bowling ball?" he asked.

"No, the..." Stan stuttered, his face scrunching.

"Banjo?" the shopkeeper asked. "Beaver?"

"Fucking bike," Stan finally got out.

The shopkeeper lowered his book, revealing the face of an older man with a cap on his head, gray and white hair underneath, thin glasses on his face. "You wanna use that kind of language, take it out in the street," he said, putting the book down.

"I'm sorry," Stan said, sighing as he approached the counter. "Can we just start over and pretend that I just walked in?" he asked.

"How can I help you?" the shopkeeper asked, looking annoyed.

"Thank you. Yes. I want to buy the bike," Stan said.

The man then chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Not sure you'll want that one," he said.

Stan gave him a funny look, as though he couldn't understand what the shopkeeper was saying. "You're a shopkeeper. Wouldn't you want to sell the stuff in your store?" Stan asked.

"'Course I would, but some things you just can't forget," the shopkeeper said and Stan winced, the guilt burning his insides. "The woman who sold me that bike asked me to hold onto it until her son came back to get it," he said, a frown on his face as he gave Stan a piercing stare. "That was 27 years ago."

Stan sighed. "I don't think he's coming," he said quietly, _knowing_ he wasn't.

"No, never figured he would. Considering her boy was that Denbrough boy that went missing, second one from that family," the man said, shaking his head.

Stan couldn't help himself. "What happened to his father?" he asked, already knowing what had happened to Mrs. Denbrough.

"Mom killed herself in the asylum, dad drank himself to death. For all you know, that bike could be haunted. Not so sure you'll want it," the shopkeeper said.

"Then wouldn't _you_ want to get rid of it?" Stan asked.

"I promised that woman I'd hold the bike till her son came to get it. I don't usually break my promises," the man said, giving Stan a look that made him wonder if he was really a man at all... instead possible one of Pennywise's illusions... because it really seemed like he could see right through Stan... "But I suppose it's better for me to let you have it than keep it there, gathering dust," the man said, sighing heavily and shaking his head.

"How much?" Stan asked.

"'Bout... 27 dollars..." he said, giving Stan that same piercing stare. "That karma, it'll get you," he said.

Stan sighed as he pulled out the money, paying for the bike and letting the guy keep the change. Stan grabbed the bike out of the window, mindful not to hit anything, and he noticed instantly how _wrong_ it felt in his hands. He remembered then when they had first met Mike, Stan being the only one to bother to put his bike on its stand instead of letting it fall to the ground precariously. Especially since they were all in the middle of the road.

He walked towards the door, thanking the man.

"Hey, Stan," the man said and Stan turned.

"How'd you--" he started to ask, his heartbeat starting to quicken but then it slowed itself down again... He didn't feel afraid, like when Pennywise was around... instead... he felt almost, for the first time in 27 years, _safe_.

I reckon you take that bike down to the corner of Jackson and Witcham, you'll find what you're looking for," the man said, pocketing the money and sitting back down behind the counter, going back to his book. _IT_ by Stephen King.

"Right... thanks..." Stan said as he pulled the bike away, leaving the store.

He'd nearly broke his ass trying to sit on it, wondering if it was just age that made it so rickety and a literal death trap for your bottom and genitals, or if it was always crap or if it just got worse after Bill died... It creaked and groaned underneath him, the handle feeling ready to fall off, almost as though it knew Stan wasn't its' rightful owner. If Patty saw him... she'd have a fit, worried about his safety.

"C'mon..." Stan muttered, wincing as he hit his knee on the bar, nearly twisting his ankle on the peddle. "C'mon... c'mon... Bill..." he said quietly, pleadingly.

Almost upon command, or wish fulfillment, the bike started to straighten out, as though it was by magic that it was repairing itself. Stan started to genuinely smile as the bike started picking up speed, the creaks and groans disappearing almost instantly. He remembered what Bill always used to say...

"Hi-ho, Silver!" he shouted, peddling as fast as he could, not even sitting on the seat, the air tickling his face. "Away!"

He peddled through the neighborhood, though he slowed when he saw Bill's old house... wondering how Bill had felt when he'd let Georgie leave on that rainy day... Georgie never coming back. He saw the kid from the restaurant, Dean, the one Richie had yelled at, walking out of the house with a skateboard in his hand. Then Stan saw the street signs and stopped. He was on the corner of Jackson and Witcham, at the same storm drain that the old lady had said Georgie had gone missing in.

Stan let the bike fall as he walked to the storm drain, a frown on his face. Memories seemed to flood back to him... but they weren't _his_ memories... he felt like this was right after the fight as he watched the memories play through his mind, playing back like a recording... or almost as though Bill was right in front of him and the moment as happening right now...

"I know you're down there," he heard Bill's voice saying. "I know you c-c-can--" he stuttered. "--can hear me," he said. "There's something I have to know," Stan saw Bill, in a shirt just like the one he'd been wearing when they'd left him, but green on the sleeves instead of blue, on his knees in front of the storm drain. "All of the kids in this town you could have taken, why G-G-Georgie?" Bill asked the storm drain. "Say something!" he shouted. "Why him? Why him? Why him? Why him?" Bill repeated, crying and hitting his fist against the street.

The storm drain didn't answer and Bill started sobbing, his hair messed up. Stan finally understood how he felt. He knew Bill had lied about being sick that day, Bill having admitted it Stan, Richie, and Eddie, and Stan doubted he'd told Beverly, Ben, and Mike, so he blamed himself for Georgie's death. Stan understood, in a sense, how that felt... and if he could take it back, he would in a heartbeat. Bill stood back up, wiping his hands on his pants and both Stan and the past Bill heard it.

"Why?" Pennywise's voice asked from the storm drain, Bill turning around to look at it. "Because you weren't there, Billy," Pennywise said and Stan started to cry, his nose tingling as tears streamed down his cheeks. Pennywise started laughing evilly.

Stan hated him. He hated the clown, he hated Mr. Denbrough for treating Bill like shit, he hated Mrs. Denbrough for ignoring Bill and then killing herself after he'd died... and he hated himself. Stan went to grab Bill's old bike when he heard it.

"Stan... don't leave..." he trembled, eyes widening when he heard Bill's voice echoing from the sewers.

"Hello?" Stan asked, turning back to the storm drain and slowly approaching it.

"Stan..." Bill's voice said from the drain.

Stan got onto his knees, his heart already racing, fear stabbing at him like knives, prickling his skin, making him want to run and flee, but guilt made him look as it gnawed at his stomach like a hungry animal.

"I'm still here... Help me..." Bill's voice said.

"Bill..." Stan gasped out, his heart pounding.

He saw Bill's hands reaching for him, an old, crumpled paper boat in his right hand. The one he'd made for Georgie the day Georgie went missing.

"Bill?" Stan asked, smiling slightly, disbelieving as he started reaching towards the arms.

"Help me, Stan..." Bill's voice said.

"Take my hand," Stan said in a voice braver than he felt, reaching into the drain. "Take my hand," he repeated. "I've got you, buddy. Come on," he said, his fingers nearly brushing the paper boat.

"He's coming," Bill said, not reaching for him.

"Take my hand!" Stan yelled, reaching his arm in as far as it would allow without having to turn his neck. "I got you. Come on," he said.

"Stan, please. He's coming," Bill's voice cried.

"Take my hand,"Stan pleaded.

"Stan!" Bill cried.

"Take my hand!" Stan begged.

Instead of Bill's hand taking Stan's, the cold, dead hand of a rotting corpse, gray and black, scabby and grotesque, grabbed his wrist. Stan yelped as his arm was pulled in, his head twisting as it went into the drain as well, pain flaring in his neck, shoulders, and wrist where the hand grabbed him. Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny little hands started to form and grab onto him, but instead of the small, rotting hands of the dead children of Derry, it was hundreds of tiny little hands, like baby hands, all of them wearing silky white gloves like clown gloves. He could hear children laughing at him, at his pain, at his fear, at his guilt. He was almost certain he could hear babies babbling with each other in baby talk...

He cried out when he heard Pennywise's mocking laughter. "Soon! Stanley boy!" he cackled and Stan started screaming. "He'll be just like me!" he laughed evilly. "Lots and lots!"

Stan felt something in his hand, the paper boat, he knew at once, as he yanked himself away from the storm drain, rolling in the street, the paper boat, bloodied and old, almost falling apart, in his hand. He could hear the children laughing at him from in the storm drain, little silver eyes staring at him. He heard babies babbling...

"I hate you!" Stan cried. "I hate you..." he sobbed.

"Who are you talking to?" the voice of a little boy asked him.

Stan looked up to see the kid from before, Dean again, standing right next to him. He jumped up almost instantly after one last glance at the storm drain, which was silent and empty now. At least, upon a _look_ it was.

"Move, move, move!" Stan said, grabbing the kid's arm and pulling him away from the storm drain. "Move! Move!" he looked at the kid, pointing at the storm drain. "You hear voices from that sewer, you stay away from it," he said, panting.

"You hear voices from the sewer?" Dean asked him, sounding and looking confused.

"No..." Stan said, realizing how crazy that had sounded. "No. Just stay away from that sewer... all sewers..." he said as he grabbed Bill's bike, the paper boat still in his hand.

"I only hear voices from the tub," Dean said. "You know. From the drain," he said.

"What kind of voices?" Stan asked quietly, his eyes wide.

Dean looked down. "Kids. And other times, like a..."

"Like a clown?" Stan asked and Dean nodded.

Though, Dean's eyes lowered.

"He's always saying 'It's gonna be soon'," Dean said.

"The clown?" Stan asked.

"Yeah... always saying 'It's gonna be soon'..." he said.

Stan had an _idea_ , a mere inkling, as to what Pennywise was referring to. He figured it meant that Pennywise was going to try and hurt this boy, and maybe even himself and the others. He wasn't entirely wrong, in a sense, but he didn't know the full capacity of it either...

He approached the boy, letting the bike fall again. "You listen to me. You listen good," he said, grabbing the kid by the jacket and the shirt. He knew it was dangerous but he also knew that if he wanted this kid to live, then he had to warn him. "You need to get out of this town. All right? Tell your parents. Make up a reason. You make up a fucking lie. I don't care what you do. Just get out of this town. Make them never bring you back. Do you understand?" Stan asked, eyes wide and mad, scaring the boy. "You leave Derry and you stay out of Derry!" Stan shouted, shaking the kid. "Do you understand me?"

"I'm supposed to be at the festival," Dean said.

"Tell me you understand!" Stan yelled, breathing heavily before letting the kid go.

"I'm supposed to be at the festival," Dean said quietly.

Stan looked at the boy's house, Bill's old house, and then back at the boy.

"I gotta go," Dean said before leaving on his skateboard.

"Just be careful!" Stan called out to him, hating Derry more and more.

He regretted, more than anything, leaving Bill to die alone and scared in the sewers with the clown. He'd carried that regret in the darkest part of his memories for 27 years, repressing it, though the guilt never went away even if Stan's memories of the incident did. Because of him, Bill never got to grow up and live his own life. Bill had been good at writing stories, Stan remembered, so he could've become a famous author when he grew up... he could've gotten married to a beautiful wife... and Stan took that away from him... Stan was the reason Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough and Bill were dead... he had to fix this... somehow, someway... he just had to...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Special chapter coming up soon...


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Sorry if this is a tad short  
> \- Thirteen will be up soon ;)

Beverly sat alone on the bottom step of the staircase in the townhouse, wondering if the others had gotten their tokens yet, already having gotten hers even though she could've lived without the horrible imagery from seeing Mrs. Kersh turn into a grotesque hag, and that strange picture of Bill and Pennywise... she looked at the dirtied postcard. She supposed she would just be sad if she really had to sacrifice it. She felt as though she should've held onto it, even after all those years... maybe she wouldn't have married Tom and would've been better off... she sniffled. She married a man who was just like her father if not worse... what did that say about her?

She sniffled again as she thought about who had wrote it. She couldn't remember who exactly, but knew it couldn't be Richie. He just didn't seem the type, plus, she was positive he had feelings for Eddie. Beverly figured it had to be Bill... and she had turned her back on him... she sighed as she thought about her encounter with Pennywise, wishing she could forget it.

 _Lots and lots of little girls..._ Pennywise had said. It made Beverly wonder if that was the reason why none of them lasted another twenty years... and why they had to kill Pennywise before this cycle came to its end. She also wondered if that was the secret Mike was supposedly keeping from them and she couldn't really blame him for that.

It struck fear deep into her core to think that Pennywise, the creature, _It_ , was possibly going to... well, procreate basically. But, did that mean there was _another_ creature like Pennywise? Another shapeshifter that fed on human fear and flesh? Pennywise had said they'd all be _daddy's_ little _girls_ , and Beverly wasn't sure fi that was a jab at her or a hint at Its' true gender. Or both.

They never did know whether or not It was a male or a female, that's why they had called it, _It_. A thought struck Beverly, and she wondered if Pennywise was the only one of his kind or not and that's why he was procreating this cycle. That it was some sort of breeding period for monsters like him... Was there _another_ monster that Beverly and the others had yet to meet? One that could be even worse than the Pennywise they knew? The thought terrified her.

Either way, Beverly figured that if they killed him this cycle, with this tribal ritual (even if she personally thought it was a load of crap), then maybe they could prevent any more creatures like Pennywise from existing.

Beverly turned her head when she heard the door open, wondering who was back already and if they'd gotten their token. She didn't feel a dreadful sense of foreboding or agonizing fear and guilt, so she knew it wasn't Pennywise.

"Guys?" she smiled a little when she heard Ben's voice.

"Hey," she greeted as he walked up to her, clearly shaken.

"Hey," he said quietly.

He looked at her and she could tell instantly that something had happened to him too. That Pennywise had paid him a visit.

"So, what did you see out there?" he asked.

"Something I wish I hadn't," Beverly said truthfully, the memory of Bill being dressed as a clown and winking at her still bothering her.

Though it didn't bother her as much as the fact that she'd seen him and he looked _pregnant_. Beverly guessed it was just Pennywise's way of taunting her. The guilt for what they did to Bill, and the fear of more creatures like Pennywise running around... taunting her with her fear and her guilt... he was always so good at that... knowing the worst parts of them and their innermost fears...

Ben gave her a funny look before he was walking right up to her.

"So, what, we just..." he sat next to her at the bottom of the stairs. "We kill It, and then we just forget everything again?" he asked.

"I hope so. Don't you?" Beverly asked as she leaned her head back against the banister.

She didn't want to remember all of the bad things from Derry. Her abusive father, her school bullies, Henry Bowers and Greta Keene, both flanked by their goons, all of those rumors that weren't true, the clown, and what they did to Bill. She wanted to forget about them like before, but never remember them again. Even if that meant forgetting Bill Denbrough for good...

"I don't know," Ben said. "I guess I want to hold onto the good stuff, you know?"

"Mmm," Beverly shrugged.

She knew there were good things, but they just seemed to be shadowed by all of the bad things. Bill especially.

"Come on. There must be something from the past that you don't want to forget again," Ben said and Beverly saw that his eyes were weirdly hopeful and happy.

She stared at him. "I remember being scared shitless," she said bluntly.

"Cold," Ben said, giving a small shake of his head.

She chuckled a little, smiling slightly as a memory came back to her. "I remember you guys in your tight-whities," she said, grinning at the embarrassed look on his face.

"Okay. Please forget that moment," he said, smiling.

"I remember this," she said as she looked down at her hands, unfolding the postcard, unaware of the hope in Ben's eyes as he tried not to smile. "I remember the boy who wrote it for me," she said, unaware of how he was staring at her. "Not him, so much, but how he made me feel," she smiled a little. "And a kiss," she said, her memories muddied.

Ben was smiling, his eyes and heart hopeful. Those damn butterflies fluttering in his stomach like he was thirteen years old all over again.

"It's still blurry, but I think the longer we're here, the more I can see it," Beverly said. "The more I can see that moment," she said. "The more I can see..." Ben's heart dropped into his stomach, just like when he'd encountered Pennywise after the fight. "Bill."

His heart felt crushed but he still had to hope she'd remember eventually. He didn't think they ever really kissed, Bill and Beverly, other than that school play that Richie had mentioned. Unless he was mistaken, because Bill had known Beverly longer... and it wasn't fair of him to be jealous of Bill... Not after what he did to him.

"I think," she said quietly and he looked back up at her, his hope small but still there. "I don't know... Do you remember..." she looked at him.

He was about to tell her the truth, that he was the one who wrote it, but the door opened, cutting him off, Richie walking in with his head down and his hands in his pockets.

"Move. Move," was all Richie said as he headed upstairs.

"What's wrong?" Beverly asked, though she already had an idea of what had happened.

"I'm leaving," Richie said as he kept going.

"What? You can't leave, man," Ben said at once. "We split, we all die," he said.

"Yeah, I'll take my chances. We're gonna die, anyway," Richie said, looking back at them.

Ben stared up at him, eyes wide. "Rich..." he turned to Beverly and held up his index finger, asking for a minute. "Rich," he followed Richie up the stairs, leaving Beverly downstairs.

Beverly turned when she heard the door open again, seeing Eddie walking in, looking and smelling like death. He was covered and stained, head to toe, hair, skin, and clothes, with a black substance that she didn't even want to know...

"Oh, my God. What happened to you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Nothing. I'm fine," Eddie said instantly, obviously lying, as he walked right past her. "I'm fine. Everything's fine," he added, heading up the stairs.

Beverly turned again and saw Stan walking in, looking particularly disturbed.

"Hey, how you doing? Where's everybody else?" Stan asked at once.

"Richie wants to leave. Ben's upstairs trying to get him to stay... I don't even know what happened to Eddie," Beverly explained.

"He's just scared," Stan said quietly, knowing how that felt.

"So am I, Stan," Beverly said quietly, not needing to ask him if he was too. "We're all scared," she said. "Becuase that's what It wants."

"We can do this..." Stan said. "I think..." he added, sniffling.

"We just have to stick together," Beverly said.

Stan then sighed and she looked at him, her eyes questioning.

"Did you see him? Pennywise?" Beverly asked him.

Stan frowned and shook his head.

"The... woman?" she asked, remembering that Stan had said he kept seeing a woman with a messed up face.

He shook his head again. "I didn't see anything... not... Pennywise exactly..." he pulled his shirt sleeve up and she gasped at the sight.

Bruises, already black and blue, were running all along his arm, all in the shape of fingerprints. But the fingerprints were so tiny, they looked like they belonged to baby hands. She knew what those were like, having gotten plenty from her father and Tom, but these were different... and she had a dreadful feeling as to why... No _human_ baby could've done that. They weren't too late, were they? He then showed her what was in her hand, a little paper boat, which was bloody and looked ready to fall apart. It had _SS Georgie_ written on it.

"Bill's token?" Beverly asked, eyes wide.

"I think so... I found his bike too... it was in some old shop," Stan said, keeping out the part about the old man.

He didn't _think_ that old man was Pennywise's doing, but there was no way the old man wasn't either educated in the fact that there was a shapeshifting monster lurking within the sewers of Derry, or he was something similar to Pennywise. Just less evil. Stan doubted that the old man was a monster, because he knew he would've felt afraid, but he didn't understand it fully. But the old man had _helped_ him, even if Stan had almost gotten his arm ripped off, and maybe his neck broken.

"So then... I've got mine... I'm sure of it... hopefully Ben has his... and you've got yours and Bill's... now all we need is Richie, Mike, and Eddie..." Beverly said, smiling a little. "Mike might even already have his," she added hopefully.

"I hope so, Bev, cause... I don't know how much more of this I can take," Stan said, feeling ready to start crying again.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Beverly said, pressing her hands to his cheeks.

Stan just shook his head. "We killed Bill..." she flinched at that. "We fucking left him to die... _I_ left him to die..." Stan said, tears streaming down his cheeks as his heart clenched, a lump forming in his throat.

Beverly frowned, feeling her own eyes grow warm and then hot, stinging with tears. "Stan, Bill wouldn't want you to keep... hating yourself," she said, knowing it was true. "He'd want you to kill Pennywise and be happy," she said.

"Did he feel that way before or after I killed him?" Stan asked bitterly.

Beverly didn't have the chance to answer before they were both jumping from the sound of an object clattering on the stairs. They both turned and saw a skateboard coming down the stairs, bouncing on each step.

"Should we be running?" Beverly asked, her heartbeat already speeding up.

"Probably," Stan said, the fear making him want to run but the guilt kept him in place.

The skateboard clattered down the steps, turning on its own, before it stopped on the rug. Stan flinched when he saw blood coming up from underneath it, floating upwards rather than dripping onto the floor. He grabbed hold of the coat rack and slowly approached it, his heartbeat already becoming inconsistent. He hit the skateboard with the end of it, not getting any reaction and he flipped it over, the four lines of blood still floating upwards. He stiffened when he saw the words on the bottom of the board, written in blood, as Beverly's mouth fell open.

_**WON'T BE THERE FOR HIM EITHER!** _

"What does that mean?" Beverly gasped as Stan threw the coat rack to the floor, already understanding what the message meant for him.

"Shit. It's the kid," Stan said, his stomach clenching as an icy chill ran down his spine.

"What?" Beverly asked, confused.

"It's the kid from the place... The Chinese place..." Stan said. "The one Richie yelled at," he added. "I saw him on the way here... He lives in Bill's old house. He was going to the fair, and..." Stan stopped where he was standing, his eyes widening. "He's going to the fair, Bev... I gotta... I gotta... I don't know... I gotta help him..." he said, trying to walk by her but she grabbed his arm.

"Okay, okay. Listen to me. We'll go together," Beverly said. "I'm gonna get Richie and Ben and we'll go," she said.

Stan knew realistically, statistically speaking as Eddie had said, that staying together was the better option. But he knew there was no time and no guarantee Richie would even come along, so that would be a waste of time. That kid, Dean, was in danger and if he died and Stan knew he had waited too long... he couldn't live with himself. He was barely doing that even now. He hadn't wanted to help Bill find Georgie and then he'd left Bill to die... he wasn't doing it again. He couldn't do it again because he was sure that if he did, he'd do himself in just like Mrs. Denbrough... not caring how he did it as long as it happened.

"There's no time, Bev. I can't let it happen again," Stan said, the tears falling again.

"What happened to Bill wasn't your fault," Beverly said instantly.

"Yes, it was. I could've helped him and we could've beaten It all those years ago. If it weren't for me, I'm sure Bill would be standing here right now. I'd probably be dead int he fucking bathtub instead and he'd be the one talking to you..." Stan said, somehow _knowing_ that was true. "I have to help that kid..." he said, moving past her.

Beverly stood there, eyes wide and afraid even as she heard Ben's voice.

"Stan! Bev? What is this? What happened?" Ben asked, seeing the coat rack and the bloodied skateboard. "Did Stan just leave?" he asked.

"I couldn't stop him," Beverly said. "Everybody's leaving," she added.

"It's all right... It's Stan. He'll be back. He came back to Derry, he'll be back," Ben said, believing that wholeheartedly. "He'll come back. Well, at least I got Richie to stay."

Meanwhile, Richie was trying to leave through the back of the building.

"Fuck," Richie said, seeing that he was on a balcony. "Oh," he said, seeing the stairs.

He was sneaking to his car, giving the townhouse a quick, backward glance. His car honked as he pushed the button on his keys, getting into his car and starting the engine, not even noticing Belch Higgins' car sitting in the same parking lot. Unaware that Henry Bowers was going after Eddie at that very moment.

"Oh. And then the leper, he threw up all over me. And Bill was there too! All dressed in a fucking clown suit! How fucking _adorable_!" Eddie said to himself, feeling annoyed and scared at this entire thing, as he rinsed his face off in the sink, feeling disgusting. "'Hey, it's Mike Hanlon. Why don't you come back to Maine?'" he said mockingly as he stood up straight and shut the mirror. He noticed too late that Henry Bowers was standing right behind him, his face just as menacing as before if not worse.

"It's your time, Eddie," Bowers said and within an instant, he was stabbing Eddie in the face and Eddie yelled with pain as he felt the blade in his cheek and his mouth, piercing his flesh.

It wasn't even so much that it hurt, it stung on first impact, but the feeling of the blade in his mouth made it go numb, the heat and coppery taste of his blood making him nauseous. And having Bowers in the same room with him when he was alone made him terrified.

"What?" he asked, muffled and already feeling ready to start crying as Bowers started laughing, Eddie turning around with the knife sticking out of his face, blood sliding down his cheek and neck, getting into his clothes. "Why?" he whined. "Why would you do that?" he asked, the side of his face already drooping down as though he was having a stroke.

"Because he says it's your time," Bowers said, laughing at him.

"Who says it's my time?" Eddie asked, slurring, and yet already knowing the answer.

Bowers just kept laughing at him. "You know..." he giggled. "Maybe he'll name one of them after me!" Bowers laughed. "Or maybe even all of you, Losers!"

"Name who?" Eddie asked, confused and scared, whining.

Bowers' entire face changed, the demented smile disappearing as he frowned. "You know, Eddie," he said. "You know. Time to float," he said before smiling wickedly. "Never thought any of you Losers had it in you," he said.

"Had what?" Eddie asked, trembling.

Bowers giggled again before he was cackling. "Even _I_ wouldn't have done that shit to Denbrough! That's worse than fucking death! Fuck yeah!" he said and Eddie whimpered and backed up, his legs brushing against the tub, which he quickly stepped into.

Bowers kept laughing and Eddie started laughing too, scared beyond all measure, not even comprehending Bowers' words as he pulled the curtain back, obscuring him from view for the moment. Eddie personally thought that there was no fucking way after 27 years, he was getting killed by Henry fucking Bowers. Especially in a bathtub covered in leper vomit and his own blood.

"Where did he go?" Bowers asked tauntingly. "Now give me back my fucking knife so I can kill you and so he won't make Bill do it!" Bowers yelled, his hand on the curtain, ready to pull it back but Eddie was already stabbing the blade through the curtain, stabbing it hopefully into a spot that would kill the maniac.

He heard Bowers groaning and Eddie watched as the curtains broke off, Bowers pulling it down. He saw the knife had hit Bowers in the sternum, so hopefully he'd stay down. Eddie looked to the wall and then at Bowers, repeating as he inched towards the door, keeping his eye on him.

"You should cut that fucking mullet," Eddie said as he got closer to the door, Bowers just standing there, looking at the blade. "It's been, like, 30 years, man," Eddie said as he crept out of the bathroom. "Guys!" he yelled.

Ben and Beverly heard him.

"Oh, shit," Beverly said before running up the stairs, Ben on her heels. "Eds?" she asked as she ran up.

She screamed when she saw Eddie covered in blood, a gaping hole the size of a small blade in his cheek.

"Jesus, Eds. What the hell?" Ben asked, eyes wide.

"Bowers in my room," Eddie said simply, though his eyes were wide. "And I don't think he gets that Bill is dead," he added.

Ben ran towards Eddie's room when he heard glass shattering.

"Is it bad?" Eddie asked Beverly as she looked at his wound.

"No," Beverly said, partially lying but not since she knew it could be worse than it was.

Ben ran into the bathroom, not sure of what he'd find and he saw the blood on the floor, which he guessed was Eddie's and then he saw the broken window. He looked out it and saw Bowers, older by 27 years, tossing the shower curtain down, the sleeves of his Juniper Hills asylum shirt torn off. The same mullet... Bowers turned a little, showing Ben that the knife was now sticking out of his body. Ben could hear young Bowers' voice echoing in his head, the memories coming back to him.

" _I'm gonna carve my whole name onto this cottage cheese!_ " young Henry had yelled, thankfully only getting as far as the H before Ben had kicked him.

Bowers blew him a kiss, smirking at him as he pulled the knife out, laughing as he walked towards Belch Higgins' car... even though Belch had been dead for 27 years... Even from a distance, Ben could see that Hockstetter, or more specifically, Hockstetter's _corpse_ , was the one driving the car... because he had been on a missing kid poster... most likely dead... for 27 years too...

"One down! Five to go!" Ben heard Bowers say. "Does this mean you'll name one of the little guys after me?" Bowers laughed as he got into the car. "Fuck yeah!"

Ben wasn't sure who he was going after next, or even where the fuck Richie was... which meant Richie must've snuck out while Ben was talking to Beverly... and if Stan was at the fair... that left Mike...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Another one bites the dust. Obviously, the chapter with Dean is coming up so that'll be fun. Not for Dean so much, probably  
> \- Decisions, decisions...  
> \- Never thought I would make this more than just a one-shot. Silly me  
> \- We all know Billy ain't dead


	13. Stan(Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The major smut will be in the next chapter which will probably be up soon

Stan was peddling as fast as he could to the fair, his heart racing and his insides clenching, burning with guilt and yet frozen with fear. He had to save the kid, Dean, was his name... he just had too... he could hear the carnival music playing, could smell the peanuts, cotton candy, and even popcorn... he let the bike fall as he ran in, running past the people at the entrance. He saw the carnival games, food stands, and all kinds of prizes... he ran past the people and turned around when he heard kids chattering... Stan could see him, the kid, handing tickets to two of his friends, and running in the other direction.

"Hey! Hey, kid! Kid!" Stan yelled as he ran towards him, his heart racing and his lungs burning as he watched the kid enter the fun house. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry," Stan apologized as he bumped into people, trying his hardest not to shove them out of his way. "Hey!" he shouted, running right up to the fun house. "Excuse me. Excuse me. Hey! Hey!" he ran right past the employee, right into the red and white tunnel.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he yelled when he felt himself spinning with the tunnel. He felt dizzy and nauseous as watched the colors, stripes no less, spinning around. "Fuck," he muttered.

He could hear the upbeat carnival music playing as he went further in, trying not to flinch at the sight of clowns, all of which were grinning at him in such a sinister way, and Stan would swear to God that they all even looked like they knew something he didn't, and he did flinch at the sound of spooky laughter. He ran past them, dodging and weaving, until one slammed right into him and slammed him into the wall.

"Fuck!" he groaned in pain before he was getting hit a second time.

Stan got through them, dodging the last few, noticing how they reminded him so much of Pennywise... but the outfit was different... either way, he went on, and saw that he was now in a mirror house. For a fun house, it was creepy as hell. The lights were flashing, bright and dim, bright and dim, light and dark, and he could feel his head pounding. He could see his reflections and tried not to run into any of the glass, and then he saw the kid, also trying to make his way through the mirror house, hands on the glass.

"Kid! Hey, kid!" Stan yelled as he sped towards him, but instantly he banged against glass that he was certain hadn't been there before. His eyes watered as pain flared in his nose. "Fuck," he muttered. "Kid?" he banged his fist on the glass before turning around, feeling his way through the mirrors. "Fuck..." he repeated, walking in the other direction.

In the farthest glass, where the kid had been standing moments before, Pennywise walked right by, a grin on his face, one that met his ominously colored yellow eyes, and in his hand, was Bill's smaller one. The teenager was right behind him, looking just as scared as Stan was as he was dragged by the clown, both disappearing as they walked where Dean had gone.

Stan grunted and groaned as he kept banging into the glass. He turned and saw the kid at the end of an aisle, no other glass inside of it.

"Kid?" he called. "Hey!" he ran that way, but started grunting as he fought to push himself through, the glass literally closing in on him. He grit his teeth and fought his way through, the glass squeaking as it pulled at his skin. "Kid!" he shouted when he saw the kid and cried out with pain when he hit his head, unaware of Pennywise's face right behind him, ominously grinning in the glass.

He turned around when he saw that the kid was gone... and then standing at the other end of the aisle.

"Kid? Hey! Hey!" he called, running that way, seeing that there was definitely no other glass in front of him that he could run into.

Of course, he realized too late that the kid was actually on the other side of _more_ glass that in his midst of panic, he didn't see, when he ran right into it, groaning with pain.

"Fuck..." Stan groaned, holding the injured spot and he heard the kid gasp as the boy turned to look.

"Shit," he said, holding the side of his face.

If he came home bruised to shit... Patty would have his head... God, he missed her so much...

"Hey..." he said, looking up, grinning a little.

He could help this kid, and get him to safety. He just knew he could. He _would_ save the kid. He had too. He just _had_ too...

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked him, confused as to why this stranger was following him and starting to become afraid of him.

Stan started laughing, not even aware of how creepy he was really acting.

"Hey. No, I'm here to h-h-help," he said, smiling a little.

"Stop following me!" Dean said unhappily.

"I'm gonna get you out of here," Stan said, about to walk away when movement, and all too familiar ginger hair caught his eye... the squeaking sound against the glass making his stomach drop.

Stan watched and Dean turned and both saw Pennywise on the floor, a long, inhuman, round tongue squeaking against the glass, a trail of saliva trailing upwards. Even with his mouth open and his tongue out, Stan could tell he was grinning... a hunter about to hunt... a predator about to kill its prey...

"No..." Stan said quietly as Pennywise slowly rose, clearly taunting the both of them. "Please..." he begged, unfortunately already knowing that it would probably do him no good.

Pennywise slid his tongue off hte glass, reeling his head back and then lowering it back down, agonizingly, tauntingly slow. Stan could hear Dean's whimper.

Pennywise lowered his head back down, eyes bright and wide, a predatory grin on his face.

"Please... I'm here this time... just take me..." Stan begged.

Pennywise looked even more menacing with the light flickering on and off... both hands pressed against each side of the glass, a lopsided grin on his face. Stan and Dean both jumped when Pennywise bumped his forehead against the glass, the clown groaning after. Then he started laughing, the clown, and did it again, harder this time. Stan yelped.

"Son of a bitch!" Stan yelled, hitting the glass with his hand, hating Pennywise for laughing at him.

Pennywise banged his head against the glass again, relishing in the frightened whimpers from the little boy and the pitiful attempts to protect him from Stan. Laughing again, Pennywise hit his head on the glass, repeating it over and over, each new hit harder than the last, until the glass began to crack. Dean gave a scared scream, his little heart pounding in his chest.

"Help!" he yelled at Stan, who was trying to smash his elbow against the glass, only hurting himself instead.

Stan and Pennywise could both be heard grunting as they tried to break each side of the glass, only one of them successful. Pennywise grinning with delight and Stan grimacing with pain.

"Help!" Dean yelled. "Help!" he cried, terrified.

Stan lost count of how many times Pennywise slammed his head against the glass but the entirety of it was cracked. It looked like it could easily make up a spider's web that had no real design to it, other than each crack could be a number, a second to count, before death would come. To the boy.

Pennywise then stopped slamming his head, looking at Dean with a predatory look in his eyes, before he was grinning, his mouth stretching unnaturally upwards, farther than any human mouth could stretch, his gums sticking out, his teeth razor sharp and deadly.

Both Stan and Dean were afraid, but for different reasons. Stanley wasn't afraid to die, not anymore. He was afraid that the boy would die. He was afraid _for_ Dean, just as Dean was afraid for himself. Pennywise found it delightfully amusing, and somewhat pitiful. But it smelled so _delicious_.

An adult's fear was usually bitter, or at least less flavorful than a child's... though Stan's was pure fear from childhood, so it wasn't as bitter and less flavorful. But Dean's was just so sweet smelling, but this wasn't Pennywise's meal, oh no, this was for Billy...

**********

Bill was fighting to get out of Pennywise's... well, _Robert's_ grip. For whatever reason, one only the clown knew, he'd changed looks. Instead of the bulbous, cracked head with the ginger hair, he had the handsome face of the young man that had taken Bill's virginity, dark brown hair on his head, looking so soft to the touch. But Bill could tell, even if he couldn't see the clown's face at the moment, that he was getting mad and Bill could imagine that his eyes were slowly turning from yellow to red, because he was getting annoyed with Bill's attempts to get away from him.

"Just... stop... fighting it..." Robert growled in his ear.

The clown was on his knees in an old, dirtied mirror house which, in Bill's mind, was the stuff of nightmares with how empty and desolate it was, save for the one little boy who he knew Robert was after, the light flickering above their heads. Pennywise, or Robert, had dragged him into the mirror house and Bill had known instantly what was coming once he saw the little boy making his way through the mirrors.

Robert had an arm wrapped around Bill's neck, the other trying to grab his wrist and pin his flailing arm down. Why he wasn't just manifesting more limbs, Bill had no idea but he really didn't care. He wanted out of this place even if his stomach was arguing with his mind, agreeing with the clown that he was _hungry_. But Bill didn't want to hurt another person. Especially a _kid_. Worse still, was that this boy looked like he was only a few years older than Georgie had been...

Almost like a child throwing a temper tantrum, Bill was kicking his legs out, trying to jerk his entire body around and throw himself out of Robert's grip, one arm trying to pull Robert's arm off of his neck, and the other flailing around so that the clown couldn't grab it and hold him down. Bill could hear his stomach growling at him, sounding just as monstrous as Pennywise could, and he gasped as he felt his stomach suddenly clenching down, _burning_ with hunger.

It was a sound that was animalistic, carnivorous, and _monstrous_. He suddenly felt numb in his limbs, his eyelids fluttering as his mind began to fog with red, wanting to eat. But this was a _child_... Bill couldn't do it.

"You're hungry," Robert growled at him, voice low and guttural.

"FUCK YOU!" Bill screamed, tears coming out of his eyes and quickly streaming down his cheeks.

He started to sob, his body trembling in Robert's grips as he stopped struggling. Bill knew he'd pissed the clown off but he couldn't help it. He didn't _want_ to kill that basher... he'd just been so mad... he didn't _want_ to kill Victoria's mother... let alone _eat_ her... but he'd been so hungry... and he didn't _want_ to kill the little boy... but he didn't think he could hold out for very long and it wouldn't matter anyway if Pennywise killed him just to spite Bill, and made him eat it anyway.

Robert growled again but then Bill could tell he was grinning. That meant nothing good for him or for the boy.

"You've got a visitor, Billy," Robert murmured in his ear, still sounding pissed but also... pleased?

Bill opened his eyes, trembling all over. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open when he saw a man following the boy. Upon first glance, obviously, one would think that the man was stalking the boy but Bill recognized that face almost instantly. He was older by 27 years, his hair black and his eyes brown, but Bill knew immediately that it was Stanley Uris. What the hell was he doing here? In Derry?

"W-what the f-fu-fuh-fuh-fuhck?" Bill stuttered, eyes wide as his breathing hitched, feeling Robert's arm around his neck tighten painfully, the hand attached taking hold of Bill's chin, fingers digging into the teen's jaw.

He felt Robert's other arm wrap around his midsection, pulling him closer to the clown, the hand attached to it finding its way to Bill's belly. It was almost _protective_ , how he held Bill around the middle... but what the hell did he have to be protective about? Especially when it came to Bill?

"He came back, Billy," Robert growled in his ear and Bill shivered from how possessive it sounded. "They all did," he said lowly, dangerously. "They think they can kill me," he added, sounding unhappy. "Haven't done enough in the _other_ worlds... gotta try it in _my_ world..."

Bill's eyes were impossibly wide. What the fuck was he talking about? Other _worlds_? _His_ world? Bill remembered what Pennywise had said to him after Bill had killed Victoria's mother.

_So, you and I aren't the worst things in this world, the next, or **another** world._

It echoed in Bill's head. Did... did that mean... well, Pennywise, It, obviously couldn't have come from the earth... so... he was from whatever world he was from... the Deadlights... so that meant there was more than one world? Bill trembled. Did that mean there was more than one Pennywise? More than one It?

"Of course there was," Robert muttered in his ear, still sounding unhappy and almost... was that _sadness_ Bill could hear?

Bill whimpered as he thought about those words. More than one world... more than one Pennywise... more than one shapeshifting, child eating monster... but he said there _was_ more. Was. Past tense... so... was he the only one... left?

"Why?" Bill croaked, his eyes hot as he cried. "Why can't you just kill me?" he asked, wishing and begging for death.

He could be with Georgie again in whatever world Georgie had gone to after he had died... or just another world. Not this one. Bill whimpered again as the hand on his chin tightened further, surely leaving bruises. Dangerously possessive.

"You traded yourself for your little friends. You are _mine_ ," Robert growled at him.

Bill could understand that, even if he didn't like it, but why make him hurt people? Even asshole gay bashers and bitch moms? Why even try and make Bill anything like himself? And Bill was human, or at least had been... what did It even gain? He trembled as he felt Robert's hand running over his stomach again, almost massaging it tenderly. He'd been doing that every time, after the 27 year long sleep... and Bill had no idea why.

Robert chuckled in his ear, low and gravelly. It was so strange though, because it sounded bitter and sad... but with a hint of happiness.

"You _will_ ," Robert said, his tone dark and full of promise and it made Bill shiver.

Bill was forced to watch, just like with Victoria, as Pennywise, cracked, bulbous head and ginger hair, slammed his head against the glass, Stan actually trying to break his side just hte same, but only Pennywise's hits were cracking the glass more and more until it looked like a distorted spider's web... and the boy was the fly... Bill and Robert were in the space behind the duplicate clown, watching, hidden from Stan and Dean.

"Please..." Bill begged. "Don't make me..." he cried as his traitorous stomach practically _roared_ at him.

The smell was so _delicious_. The smell of fear made Bill's hunger worse and it made him sick to think that it was so delicious but here he was, thinking that way. He could smell Stan's fear and Dean's, mortified at the fact that he could tell the difference between the two smells, and Stan's was almost bitter, less flavorful.

It was bitter, like dark chocolate, but less flavorful at the same time, like oatmeal before anything was added to it. Dean, on the other hand... his fear smelled like a mix between a homemade meal, the smell of a parent's cooking, because homemade meals from your parents were always the best, or a sweet, freshly baked dessert, either way, it was _rich_ with flavor.

Bill cried harder at the thought of his parents. Both of them were dead, both from suicide, though one was by hanging and the other was from drinking. It was his fault.

" _Stan's_ fault, Billy," Robert murmured softly to him.

Bill trembled, shaking like a leaf. It was his fault about Georgie, and his mom's... but it really was Stan's fault that Bill's parents were dead, wasn't it? Bill wouldn't even be trapped at thirteen years old if it hadn't been for Stan... he wouldn't have been raped, over and over again, by the clown, kept around like a pet, and forced to do unforgivable things if it hadn't been for Stan's cowardice. He realized then, he hated Stan. He hated him so much... he was almost certain that he hated Stanley Uris _more_ than Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

It was Stan's fault those people were dead. Adrian and Victoria and maybe even Don might've died if Bill hadn't been there, but it was a double-edged sword. Those bashers and Victoria's mom were dead, because of Bill. Who knows what would happen to Victoria now, but Bill's were bathed in blood because of Stan. Even if they were terrible people, nobody deserved to _die_. Bill had murdered two people, five if you counted the three that Pennywise had killed because he probably wouldn't have bothered if Bill hadn't done anything. It was all Stan's fault, what had happened to Bill and what Bill had done. It was all Stan's fault.

"My sweet Billy," Robert coed in his ear, petting his head now. "My sweet... _Omega_..." he growled low as he turned Bill's head so that Bill was looking right at him.

Bill's eyes were pink and glassy, his cheeks already red and blotchy, stained with tears.

Bill knew it wasn't really fair but he hated Stan so much... the only good thing that had came from what Stan had done was that Adrian, Victoria, and probably Don were still alive. But Bill had blood on his hands, blood that could've been avoided if Stan hadn't been such a coward. Bill knew it was a sick thought, but he wished Stan hadn't been such a coward 27 years ago so that they could've probably have won... just so Bill wouldn't have to know that he had killed five people, even if they were terrible on the inside... and it would be six now, an actual innocent child...

"You would have too. Won, that is," Robert murmured, pressing his lips to the corner of Bill's mouth, smiling a small, strange smile.

The teen blinked, confused. Why would he say something like that? What did--

"Technically speaking. It's already happened, twice... thrice," Robert muttered, a strange grim tone in his voice. "Six times... if you count the second times..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Bill asked, confused.

Robert just chuckled at him, low and bitter, and Bill watched as Robert pulled his head back, looking him dead in the eye, before he was opening his mouth, similar to how he had done it when he'd put Bill into his Deadlights for the first time all those years ago, and Bill watched, transfixed, as from Robert's mouth came, floating out, a single bright white, pure light, a Deadlight, and Bill's struggle began again, but it was a pointless effort. Robert, It, was infinitely stronger than he was without even trying.

The clown forced his mouth open, fingers digging into Bill's cheeks and Bill cried out. Robert adjusted himself so that he was sitting cross-legged, Bill's bottom on his thighs, as he wrapped his other arm around Bill's waist, keeping the teen in place as that light floated closer and closer...

"S-st-stop!" Bill cried out when he could suddenly hear the sound of children, boys and girls, and adults, men and women, screaming, that same familiar feeling of floating hitting all of his senses as the small ball of light brushed against his lips, feeling _so cold_ against his skin.

Bill beat his fist against the clown's chest, his other hand trying to pry the hand off his jaw but the ball of light was going into his mouth and Bill's eyes widened as he felt it enter him, brushing against his tongue... but he tasted nothing at all...

It felt like something had been spit into his mouth, as that light seemed to stop in the back of his mouth, just shy of going down his throat... and then it felt like some sort of medicine... dissolving into his mouth... going into him... becoming part of him... and then it was happening... All of his senses, his hearing, his sense of smell, his sense of taste, his touch, his sight... it all became muddied and then foggy, then pure nothing but cold as his hunger screamed and bellowed and roared at him to satisfy it...

"That's a good Billy," Robert murmured as he kissed Bill, petting Bill's head as Bill's entire body trembled and shook, the light fading away inside of him, becoming part of him.

His limbs jerked every which way, making him look as though he was having a seizure. Writhing around like he was possessed.

Bill broke the kiss, jerking his head to the side as he felt something stirring inside of him, whatever Robert-- no, _It_ , had given him taking over his body. His mind and thoughts faded away as everything seemed to float away from him.

Though he vaguely thought of when he had shot the fake Georgie, really Pennywise, in the head with Mike's gun... and then Pennywise had revealed himself... Bill's mouth opened wide as he gave an inhuman roar, feeling something so cold and so _evil_ creeping and crawling through his veins like live spiders were inside of him, the roar identical to the one the fake Georgie had given before Pennywise fully revealed himself...

In Bill's mind, he could feel himself floating away but he was _so cold_. He could hear children and adults laughing and swearing and going about their daily lives, enjoying the fair... he could hear Stan struggling to get to Dean, Dean whimpering with fear as Pennywise cackled with delight... Bill could see it too... he was changing... he wasn't human anymore... whatever It had given him... whatever pure, cold, raw, and _evil_ energy the monster had put inside Bill, was turning him into a monster too... Bill blacked out... floating away...

It was almost as though he was riding a comet through outer space, Bill thought. His thoughts ran faster than his mind could comprehend, and he was seeing things he knew he would never have seen before had it not been for It. He shivered as he felt himself falling and yet floating at the same time, suddenly looking through eyes that were not his own. He felt like he was reliving his memories, like in the Deadlights, but they weren't _his_ memories.

Bill could see himself, or something, falling to the earth, like a meteor hurtling from outer space before it was caught in earth's pull... and what a small planet earth was in comparison... then he could see hundreds of people, their faces too blurry to make out, before he was _eating_ them. The smell of the adults was quite foul but the children? The children smelled so _delicious_ and the taste was even better when they were afraid.

He sees, through eyes that aren't his, over three hundred people, early settlers, he somehow knows, getting killed. He sees himself doing it, taking on the form of their worst fears before using it to go in for the kill and then devour, but it wasn't Bill Denbrough that killed those people. It was It. The monster.

It's like watching a movie, just like reliving his memories in the Deadlights, but Bill is reliving Its' memories rather than his own, seeing through Its' eyes as though he was the one who committed these horrible crimes. He then feels himself going to sleep and then waking up. He goes to sleep after more horrible deaths, only waking up when tragic events happen, ones he didn't cause. It's almost as though he is Pennywise, It, and is reliving his memories.

The name John Markson pops into Bill's mind, though Bill has no idea who that is, and he sees Markson poison his own family before committing suicide by eating a white nightshade mushroom, causing an excruciating death. Bill could feel himself waking up again, then going back to sleep after more deaths occur, dozens of children being devoured by the monster. Bill feels himself waking up again, then going back to sleep after murdering a group of lumberjacks, leaving their bodies near a bit of water that Bill somehow knows is called the Kenduskeag Stream.

He feels himself waking up again when a lumberjack named Claude Heroux murders a dozen men in a bar with a single ax before he was pursued by a mob of angry townsfolk and hanged. Bill, really It, partook in that horrible event and he knows that he was spotted by someone. Egbert Thoroughgood, thoughts and memories that weren't Bill's told him. Thoroughgood had spotted Bill, really It, a few more times since that horrible day. Two years later, Bill feels himself going back to sleep, or hibernation, when the Kitchener Ironworks exploded, killing 108 people, 88 of them children who were there for the Easter Egg hunt.

Then, in 1929, the monster's memories tell him, but Bill somehow knows in his own mind and thoughts, that the year is wrong because the 27 year cycle Robert was known for doesn't add up, the monster is waking up again when a group of Derry citizens ambush and kill some gang, the Bradly gang, a group of robbers and murderers. The town, including the police chief, pretend it never happened... Bill watches as It, taking the form of a clown in a farmer's attire, takes part in the slaying, enjoying Itself immensely.

In 1930, It goes back into hibernation when a nightclub called The Black Spot is burnt down, intentionally no less. But Bill doesn't see through the eyes of the clown, or _a_ clown, he sees through the eyes of a giant bird with balloons on its wings. Oddly enough, he sees a man that somehow, in a way he doesn't understand, he knows is William Hanlon but that doesn't make any sense, because William Hanlon is Mike's _father_ , not his grandfather... and his father had been dead for years... but there was no way Mike's father was alive back in 1930...

Then, in 1957, and this one confuses Bill even more than the one with Mike's father, he sees Dorsey Corcoran, the boy Pennywise had mentioned, Ed Corcoran's brother, getting beaten to death by his stepfather, Richard Macklin. The math didn't add up and the years were _wrong_. Bill's person, his self, feels like crying when he sees himself perform the most horrible of actions even if it wasn't really him who did it...

He sees through Its' eyes, Georgie's arm being torn off. And yet, Georige looks like he's only six instead of seven, and It didn't take the body, only the arm...

And then it gets worse. He sees through the eyes of It, his own self and the others (he can't even call them friends anymore) performing something called the Ritual of Chud and it _hurts_. Bill feels the pain that the ritual, the _real_ ritual, inflicts onto It and it forces the monster into an early hibernation as Bill feels the pain. It felt like Its entire body, or form, or very existence as It had no true form on earth, was being torn apart like paper, just seconds away from being destroyed completely.

Then, in 1984, he sees three bullies assault Adrian Mellon and Don Hagarty. They threw Adrian off the bridge and Bill, seeing through the eyes of It, in the form of Pennywise but the costume is different, attacks and kills him. And then, in 1985, Bill feels and sees through the eyes of the creature, being defeated once and for all and finally killed in a second Ritual of Chud by people who are all adults, all of which Bill knows is somehow himself, Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak, and Ben Hanscom, but the one who defeats and kills It isn't any of them, except Bill.

It hits Bill like a meteor striking the earth when he realizes he's not seeing through the eyes of the It he has come to know, the same one who took his virginity and then kept him around instead of granting him mercy and death. He's seeing through the eyes of another It. Another creature like Pennywise, but it's a _female_. And he understands that the It he knows, Robert, is a _male_.

But that isn't even the end of it. Bill sees through eyes that he then knows are Robert's, the familiar feeling of Robert's light touching his thoughts, and he sees _more_. The female It, which took the form of a giant female spider, the only thing a human mind could comprehend, is dead, and after her is another gigantic spider, albeit a male one, and like the female, it's dead.

The second gigantic spider, the male, looks much like an old animatronic or old movie graphics, and its heart is torn out, Bill can see. Bill knows that this gigantic dead spider is another creature like It, or had been before it died. There is no light in its eyes or its heart. Its Deadlights, just like the female's, on the earth, are void and dull. Lifeless.

After the second dead spider, Bill sees another clown, dressed much differently than the Pennywise he knows and had seen the female dressed as, and himself by force, stabbing someone, giggling merrily. This one features the stereotypical appearance of a clown with poofy red hair, a red nose, colorful makeup, and baggy, multi-colored clothes with a frilly trim. Bill thought that the clown would look delightful if it wasn't just an act...

Though, the giggling ends when more monsters, creatures from multiple horror movies, like gigantic spiders that aren't really shapeshifting monsters, vampires and werewolves, fish monsters and all kinds of other things, start fighting and killing each other once all of the humans in some... facility are all dead.

Then, the creature and all the other monsters are dead almost instantly when a great hand, bigger than the large cabin that the facility was underneath, bursts from the cabin and from the earth, which, almost instantly, is destroyed by that great, godlike hand.

After the clown with the knife, Bill sees Neibolt collapsing into itself, and somehow knows, that this symbolizes that another creature, just like Robert, is _dead_. Bill even faintly sees it through Robert's eyes, five hands squeezing together the heart of that world's It until it bursts and bleeds and the lights start fading from the creature's eyes. Killing It.

Bill knows, in the deepest part of his mind, even if he doesn't fully comprehend it, words simply coming to his mind and knowledge and memories behind them, that Robert, the creature, It, sort of like a Glamour, a shapeshifter from the Macroverse, is the last of his kind. The female, Bill knows, had laid eggs and while Bill doesn't know who exactly the father was, he doesn't care. He knows that every one of them is gone except for Robert. Bill even knows through the female's memories as well as Robert's that Ben is responsible for the deaths of all of the female's children... and for a brief second, despite everything Bill knows that these monsters have done, he feels _bad_.

Because they're all gone except for Robert. The adults and the unborn. Bill doesn't know for certain how many there were to start with, having only witnessed four deaths, but he knows that Robert, the Deadlight that came to this earth, this world, is the _last_. Or at least, before now, he _was_.

Bill feels faintly bad because Robert's words echo in his mind. A spider eating a fly, a creature simply trying to live and procreate like everything else. Just trying to live... it was all sick and disturbed, Bill knew... but he couldn't help but feel saddened at the thought...

"Wake up..." a soothing voice hits his ears, though it sounded so far away, as though it was echoing down a dark, never ending tunnel. "Wake up, Billy..." Bill recognizes the voice.

The voice of Pennywise the Dancing Clown... Robert "Bob" Gray... an alias he stole from some poor, dead bastard... the voice of It... the voice of... an odd thought passes through his mind... _Alpha_...

That wasn't right, Bill's mind told him... the voice of _his_ Alpha, his mind corrected him. Bill felt the creep up his spine, consciousness returning to him, and he fluttered his eyelids, which felt so heavy... he opened his eyes, seeing Robert's face with the white paint and the red lines, red lipstick and a red painted nose, and all... his eyes weren't at all ominous yellow or dangerous, lethal red... they were a beautiful, deep, happy, delighted blue. Pleased and happy.

Bill felt different than before that light had gone inside of him. He felt... _better_. He could hear things even though they were so far away from him... his sense of smell was amplified and the smell of fear was so delightful to him... he could almost taste it... and he could see so much more clearly, seeing every line on Robert's handsome, painted face and the creature behind his eyes and... why, behind those eyes wasn't a spider at all. The spider was just the closest thing imaginable to a human mind, the easiest thing compared... and yet the human mind seemed so minuscule compared to this creature...

It was pure light, inconceivable to the human eye, but that was because It had no true from other than a strong, all-powerful _Alpha_. Something absolutely incomprehensible to this small, pitiful world...

Bill gave a soft groan as he moved his limbs, which felt numb and stiff at the same time. He flushed when his stomach growled again, louder than ever this time... Robert grinned at him and some part, deep inside of Bill, felt so happy to see Robert grinning so happily at _him_.

"Shh," Robert hushed him as he whimpered, feeling pain spreading all over his body.

He was _so hungry_... his eyes drifted over to Pennywise, who was still banging his head on the cracked mirror... a spider's web made of glass... the smell of fear, adult and child, so delicious and tempting...

"All yours, Billy," that was all his hunger needed to hear...

**********

Pennywise reeled his head all the way back, yelling. He slammed his quickly growing head into the glass and, for a brief second, Stan could see something he wished he hadn't... for a brief second, Stan could see the Pennywise disappear with a flash of the light and just as quickly, another clown character appeared... and somehow, in some incomprehensible way, Stan knew it wasn't just one of Pennywise's tricks.

For a brief second, his distorted face looked like Bill's with the red hair and the pale blue eyes... but the inhumanly large mouth with all of the sharp teeth made Stan forget about that as the glass shattered and the clown with the different suit, a bright yellow jumpsuit with ruffles on the neck and puffy sleeves, from what Stan could see in that brief second, devoured Dean within an instant. Swallowing him whole.

The last thing Stan heard was Dean screaming before an unforgettable, gut-wrenching chomping sound hit his ears, blood splattering the mirrors. He yelped at the sound, his heart beating unnaturally fast, feeling ready to burst out of his chest like a cartoon character, his insides clenching and he started to cry.

He didn't save him... he couldn't save the kid... he'd failed Dean just like he'd failed Bill... Stan whimpered when the light came back on and all of the blood was gone and the mirror was repaired. He had to go back to the library... and get the others... Stan prayed to whatever God there was that with the Ritual of Chud, they could kill It once and for all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Also, the information gained from this chapter came from the Wiki cause I'm too lazy to reread the book  
> \- More of "Robert" to be explained in Chapter 14  
> \- Ah, the Macroverse. Canon and existent, each Stephen King book, film, and television miniseries I think a little pocket world inside a big ass universe...  
> \- Penny for thoughts?


	14. Bill & Robert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I called it Bill & Robert because it swaps POVs  
> \- This chapter took a long time to write so I hope it's good  
> \- Chapter's been updated so definitely over 10000 words in one chapter now so yay

Bill lay on the floor of the mirror house, blood staining his mouth, the ruffles of the jumpsuit, and the black vest, unconsciously licking at his bloodstained teeth, acutely aware of the flesh stuck between them. Bill knew, deep down, that it was wrong, so very wrong on so very many levels, what he had just done to that little boy... trapping him like an animal before going in for the kill... even if that part had been Robert's doing... but the _flavor_ , so _perfectly seasoned_ with fear... Robert was purring loudly, one gloved hand petting Bill's head and the other on Bill's belly, fingers splayed over the jumpsuit, massaging the spot.

Robert whispered sweet words to Bill, about what a _good boy_ he was. What a good _Omega_ he was. Bill didn't really know what that meant, but he didn't really care. His body felt so content at the moment, his belly full and the blood lust satiated... for now, but inside his thoughts he felt so horrible, even though he enjoyed Robert's gloved hands touching him, fingers running through his hair and massaging his scalp, petting him like some kind of kitten or puppy. And weirdly, he enjoyed the feeling of Robert's fingers touching his belly, massaging it over and over.

"Wh-what did you d-d-do?" Bill asked, licking at his teeth, savoring the flavor even though he _hated_ himself.

He had saved Victoria, the little girl, but he had killed Dean, the little boy. He nor Stan had saved him and Bill hated himself for it. The saner part of his mind, the last bit still clinging onto human morals, made him hate himself and regret what he had done, wishing he could just die and be rid of this nightmare. He'd just been so _hungry_.

He knew he wasn't the same after spending 27 years simply floating within the space of Robert's Deadlights, but the straw that broke the camel's back had been Robert putting that small ball of cold, dead light into Bill, turning him into a monster just like Robert. Turning him into a Deadlight.

Bill barely even notices that his teeth, the canines no less, were sharper than they usually were, barely even remembering his own face stretching out so inhumanly, taking on a halfway monstrous form, as he'd devoured that poor boy with a single chomp just like Pennywise had done more than one to more than one child over the years. Bill _hated_ himself.

"I made you _better_ , Billy," Robert murmured into his ear before taking the lobe into his mouth and sucking on it, teasing it with his teeth, which were sharp.

Bill gasped, his back arching as the sensitive spot reacted to Robert's touch... had it always been _that_ sensitive? Just from the feeling of a wet, warm tongue and sharp, stinging teeth, it suddenly felt as though it was on fire, quickly scorching his skin and that one little action made Bill's nether regions stir in the jumpsuit. Bill moaned softly as he felt himself hardening almost instantly, cock swelling in the jumpsuit. Robert purred louder, and he wasn't even touching Bill there...

"Wh-what did you do?" Bill repeated, mewling at the sudden feeling of heat running through his veins, the coldness gone now.

Robert hummed softly, looking pleased and content, as he ran his thumb over Bill's chin, the redness of the blood staining the white glove.

"I made you better," he repeated, pressing his bloodied thumb against Bill's lips and Bill couldn't have helped himself even if he tried, and he had tried.

His tongue poked out from between his lips, giving the thumb a small, kitten lick before taking it into his mouth, swollen pink lips wrapping around the digit, almost sucking on it and relishing in the flavor and the pleased growl that came from the clown. He moaned around the finger, the sound slightly muffled as it went all the way into his mouth, rubbing against his tongue.

"I made you like me," Robert said truthfully and Bill whimpered around the thumb as he suddenly felt something strange about his skin, something he didn't like at all.

It felt like spiders, little tiny, creepy, crawly legs, were walking on him, but when he put his hands to his cheeks, he felt nothing. He turned his head and tried to ignore the displeased grunt after the bloodied thumb popped out of his mouth. Bill blinked when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, turning his head to look and his eyes widened at the sight of his own face.

It wasn't spiders crawling on his flesh, but white covering his face. It was slowly spreading on his skin, starting at his nose and then spreading all over his face, as though some invisible hand was applying clown makeup until his entire face, ears, and his neck were painted white, just like a clown, just like Robert. He silently wondered if the rest of his skin looked the same... or if it was just on his face.

Tears welled into his eyes as he stared at himself. He looked like a boy dressed in a clown suit, and he could either be a circus performer or a kid dressed as a clown for Halloween, but maybe the latter since there was blood all over him. He whimpered, blinking out tears.

He had killed someone... Bill knew he had already killed two people and they couldn't really be said to be self-defense, even if the bashers would've beaten him up too if they had gotten the chance, the boy urging the others to do it and for all Bill knew, they could've killed him too but it didn't matter.

They didn't and they, like Victoria's mom, were dead because of Bill. By his hands, or feet... and his teeth. The basher had gotten to die fairly quickly, but Victoria's mom... _eaten alive_. Same as Dean, that little boy, a person who _didn't_ deserve to die.

Bill started to cry. He wasn't even _human_ anymore. He knew he wasn't. He was like Robert, It. A Glamour, a shapeshifter from the Macroverse, capable of turning into monstrous characters because he _was_ a monster. Bill wasn't exactly the same as Robert or the female or the others because he had been human first, and somehow he knew the Deadlights hadn't been.

Bill knew he was more like the female, because some part of him knew that whatever part of her was left from the Macroverse, from the Deadlight world that she had originated from and probably went back to after death, was inside of him. It was now part of him. It was him.

"Oh, hush," Robert said and Bill's lip quivered as he looked at the clown. "You're better now, Billy," he said rather gently.

"I killed him," Bill murmured, tears sliding down his white cheeks.

"He was dead either way," Robert said, running his fingers over Bill's cheek.

"That's not the point," Bill croaked out, his chest heaving with sobs that he couldn't control.

He was just a boy, not even yet a teenager. Bill knew that even though he shouldn't. The point was, that boy didn't deserve to die. And that kid had already had a shitty night and shitty day. Bill blinked. He suddenly knew that the kid had been yelled at by... Richie Tozier... famous comedian... even grabbed by him... same with Stanley Uris... who had been talking about voices in the sewer. And then Stan had grabbed him and yelled at him before following him into the mirror house. Bill trembled as he slapped Robert's hand from his belly, sitting up and scrambling backwards, trying to get away.

"Why?" Bill asked, tears falling as he tried to glare at the clown but only managed to give him a broken stare.

"Why?" Robert asked and Bill was reminded of when he'd asked the clown why he had taken Georgie instead of any other kid in Derry.

Bill knew that it wasn't fair to want some other poor kid to die instead of Georgie, but he couldn't help it. He loved his brother, he just hadn't wanted to play with him on a rainy day... and it made him sick to think that without hesitation, without a second thought, he'd kill Dean all over again or any other kid if he thought for one second it would bring Georgie back... even if the family of that other kid, and Dean, would suffer... and yet he still hated his parents and Stan more than he hated himself and the clown.

Robert put his hand back onto Bill's face, thumb brushing his lower lip, smiling at him.

"Lots of reasons, Billy," Robert said and Bill trembled. "Wasn't any fun for me to kill you when you weren't afraid, and then why give you what you want? And if I kill you, I don't get to keep you," he said and Bill stared at him, eyes glassy. "But how ironic, and unfortunate. For you. _You_ killed her, Billy," Robert said.

Bill knew he was talking about the female, but he still didn't understand or fully grasp the concept of the existence of a Macroverse. More than one world, more than one It... or at least, there had been more than one It. And for there to be more than one him, more than one Bill Denbrough... it was all strange to him.

"Fat Boy killed the little ones, so he'll get his," Robert said, grinning a dark grin that made Bill shiver. "But I'll tell you a secret, Billy," and with that, Robert leaned closer to Bill, breath ghosting over Bill's flesh and it felt so cold as it tickled his ear. "I always liked you most."

"Why?" Bill asked, confused and scared.

"Why?" Robert asked again, still grinning at him. "You're the most fun to play with. And I didn't even know it was you that killer her before the deal," he said.

Bill stared at him, a question coming to his mind.

"What would you have done if you did know?" Bill asked.

Robert just kept grinning at him, thumb toying with Bill's lower lip.

"Don't know," Robert said simply.

"Why not j-just k-ki-kill m-m-muh-me?" Bill asked, wanting to know.

"Less fun, for me," Robert said. "Once you're dead, you're dead. Everyone's got a place in the Macroverse. I don't get to keep you around if I kill you. And why kill you now? Too attached and you owe me. You're not even human anymore, Billy," Robert said and that face made Bill want to cry harder. "Everyone has a place in the world. Yours, this world's you, is with me," he said, low and bordering a growl that made Bill's knees feel like jelly, his cock stirring.

Bill gave a gasp when Robert kissed him, before moaning softly into the clown's mouth. It was slow at first, almost like a kiss between lovers, before he was nipping at Bill's lip with impossibly sharp teeth. Bill whimpered into the kiss even as he wrapped an arm around the clown's neck, pulling him closer as the hand on his face moved and took hold of his wrist, pressing it against the floor and pushing Bill down too, laying the teen on his back.

The clown hovered over him. Bill whimpered again as he felt his cock flaring with heat and he felt his face flush, his ears burning, and he wondered if his cheeks were red or not, when he felt the wetness forming back _there_ again.

He broke the kiss and cried out when he felt Robert grinding against him, the clown's hardness brushing against his and he moaned at the mere thought of getting fucked again, pounded into, over and over, taken repeatedly, the knot snagging and locking them together, filling him with Its' seed. Bill gasped when he felt the wetness gush out of him, soiling the bottom of the jumpsuit and Robert's grin was positively predatory.

"It's time, Billy," Robert murmured and Bill understood.

The female, the very last female, was gone. So were her eggs and any potential future females. They were all gone. Robert was the last of his kind and a male... Bill knew because of Robert and the female's light that Deadlights were without genders, more like orientations. It was more easily described by genders because human women had children, like Omegas, and human men impregnated them, like Alphas. He also knew that when a Deadlight died, it went back into the world it was created in. The Deadlights.

It was a term that could be used in multiple ways. When describing a creature, like Robert, it was a Deadlight. Creatures, used in plural, was Deadlights. Each Deadlight also had its own mind within a hive-like world, its own Deadlights. And then the world they were from was also known as the Deadlights. Since the creature, the female, was dead, whatever made her an It, a living, sentient creature was gone, but Its' power, its dead light that was a living essence went back to the Macroverse, back to the Deadlights. Left there to float until something came to take it away... and Robert had done that.

It was like matter, couldn't be made or destroyed, only altered or changed. Bill remembered that from science class and he never thought he would miss it so much.

Robert had taken the female's dead light and placed it into Bill, and that's why he had her memories. He had glimpses of Robert's memories because he had been in Robert's Deadlights, his mind so to speak, and that's why Bill knew what had become of the others, because that's when Robert found out.

That's why the times that horrible events occured, like Georgie's death or William Hanlon seeing Pennywise, and the sleep cycles didn't add up, because the female had lived in another world, on another earth, somewhere else within the Macroverse. And... any intelligent creature, the last of its species no less, would want to survive and make more if it was possible... and Robert had just made it possible through Bill... by making him just like the female... making him an Omega.

Bill's eyes widened as Robert's tongue trailed down his neck, the nightmares from his time in Robert's Deadlights coming back to him. He saw himself wrapped up in tentacles, hoisted up and pressed against a mirror just like the ones they were in now, and fucked into by Robert, his belly round and swollen and _pregnant_ and Bill understood. He knew, from the female's memories, that Deadlights, otherwise known as Glamours, like Robert and herself, had orientations. Not genders. Omegas and Alphas.

And since they were shapeshifters, with no true form other than that cold, pure, dead light and their orientation, an all-powerful, protective Alpha or an all-powerful, fertile Omega, then an Omega could have the body of a male and carry the offspring and an Alpha could have the body of a female and still impregnate an Omega. It didn't matter that Bill Denbrough was a _boy_. It scared him, to know that whenever they wanted, they could be whatever they wanted, especially on earth, and now... mating cycles... impregnating...

 _Pregnant_.

That word echoed in Bill's head, repeated like a mantra but the sound amplified to where it made his head spin and pound. Robert was going to impregnate him, going to breed him to make more Deadlights. Bill was now an Omega. Robert had always been an Alpha... Bill jerked and Robert's grip on his wrist tightened.

Anything was game. Anything was possible. Robert held all the strings so it wouldn't even matter if Bill tried to fight back. He might be like the female, but Robert was still stronger. More experienced and Bill was afraid. No... he was _terrified_.

 _Pregnant_.

Bill Denbrough, a boy trapped forever as a teenager with a man-eating, shapeshifting monster from another world, another universe, made into a monster so that he could be forced to _breed_... A strange thought flickered in his mind.

He knew about the birds and the bees, and remembered the rumors about Beverly and Bowers even if they hadn't been true, and had heard plenty from Richie before, but he'd never even thought about having kids of his own before. Certainly not in Derry where kids were known to go missing or wind up dead. Or both, in that order.

And he'd only been thirteen, barely even touching puberty... that wasn't even a speckle of a thought in his mind. But... even if they were monsters, man-eating shapeshifters... wouldn't they still be _his_ kids? Would Bill even have kids if he had gone to live for another 27 years instead of being trapped in this nightmare? Would he have a wife? Would she be beautiful? Smart? Funny? Kind?

"Yes," Robert said bluntly and Bill felt like crying again. "To the beautiful wife part..." he gave Bill a surprisingly tender smile. "And, of course, they'll be yours too, silly Billy."

A strange thought passed in Bill's mind as stranger images popped into his thoughts. What would they look like? Would... would they be born how humans had babies or how Deadlights had them? Bill was different than the female, he knew. He had her light, not one of his own, so he was like Robert, but he had a form. Himself.

Would they look like Robert? Would they look like Pennywise? Would they look like Bill? It was so strange, thinking about what they would look like and even having little baby faces pop into his head. He could see a little baby right now, bright, ginger hair and the bluest of eyes, just like Pennywise when he wasn't pissed off or about to hunt. He could see another, hair the same color as Bill's but with Robert's blue eyes. Another had Robert's dark brown hair and Bill's pale blue eyes...

It was all Stan's fault. Bill knew he was to blame too, because he'd dragged them into the sewers because he couldn't accept that Georgie was gone but if Deadlights could be killed, then they could have beaten Robert-- Pennywise at the time, all those years ago. They probably would've had to come back to Derry and beat It a second time, 27 years later, but if the female had died after the second fight, then Robert probably could've been killed just the same. Bill was _robbed_ of 27 years of his life, robbed of a beautiful wife to come home to, and probably robbed of a promising career. It was all Stan's fault.

Well, that wasn't fair, Bill's mind told him. It was all their faults. And that was sort of true. Richie and Eddie, his own best friends, hadn't convinced Stan to stay. Richie walked out right after Stan had, and then Mike followed. Bill couldn't blame Mike too much, but it still wasn't fair. And then Ben, Bill remembered, had urged Beverly to also leave. He realized, he hated them all. They were _not_ his friends. It was all their faults.

Bill whimpered again as he felt Robert's hand on his cock, which jumped at the touch as he massaged it through the jumpsuit.

"I don't want-- I don't want--" Bill murmured, pushing his hand against Robert's chest but he might as well have been trying to shove a brick wall.

The monster, the Deadlight, inside of him, that was now part of him, wanted the Alpha in front of him, wanted to be fucked and impregnated, bred over and over, but Bill Denbrough did not want that. He wanted to go home even if someone else lived in his house. He wanted to go back to the way things were before Georgie disappeared. Before his so called friends left him to die in a sewer with a monster, only to suffer a fate _worse_ than death.

"Do you really think things will ever go back to normal?" Robert asked him and Bill just shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He knew things would never go back to _normal_. But he wasn't just going to lie here and be fucked by the clown and impregnated with more human eating, shapeshifting monsters, even if they would be his kids too. He was acting before he was thinking, lifting his leg up and he felt his knee touching the clown... and to his surprise, there was a grunt of pain mixed with shock. It was almost like music to Bill's ears, though it was more ominous than harmonious. Bill had fucking _kneed_ the clown.

Bill scrambled back once Robert let go of his wrist, sitting up and pressing his back against the glass that wasn't broken. His eyes widened when he realized he'd kneed him in the worst spot to knee a _male_...

"Like to play rough, do you?" Robert growled at him, blue irises bleeding into red, skipping the yellow entirely and a chill ran down Bill's spine, like ice water being poured on his back...

He wasn't holding himself, like anyone else would've after getting kicked in the nuts. But it clearly hurt him just as much as it surprised him, and he wasn't happy about it.

"I can play _**rough**_."

Ignoring the wetness sliding out of him and down his thighs, the insides and the backs, Bill got up, nearly falling over as he did, his limbs suddenly growing numb with a pleasurable warmth, and he darted through the space he had made after breaking the glass, not really sure what he was doing or where he thought he was going to go, but he couldn't just lay there and take it. He _couldn't_.

"Run, run, run, fast as you can, Billy boy!" Robert's voice called from behind him as Bill ran through the mirror house, feeling a strange sense of deja vu even though he knew he'd never been in a mirror house before... at least, not in _this_ world, he hadn't.

"Fuck!" Bill cried out with pain as he slammed right into glass, whimpering as heat crept through his veins and slick slid out of him, wetting the legs of the jumpsuit and his skin. The slick felt like liquid fire on his flesh.

The lights flickered on and off as he put his gloved hands in front of him, feeling for the glass and trying to maneuver his way out, his heart beating faster than any _human_ heart could. He wasn't just skittish like a mouse or easily spooked like a deer or simply afraid. He was _fucking_ _terrified_.

Bill yelped and fell backwards when he saw the face of Pennywise the Dancing Clown grinning at him from the other side of one of the mirrors, though Bill would swear it looked like Pennywise was in the glass, which he probably was. His eyes were blue and he was grinning a dangerous grin, teeth inhumanly sharp as his entire mouth curved upwards. Bill ran the other way and ran into more glass, crying out as pain flared in his nose. He put both hands to the now throbbing spot, hot tears stinging his eyes.

He didn't _want_ to hurt anyone else. He didn't _want_ to be the only Omega to Robert's only Alpha. He didn't _want_ to be used as a sex toy, to be used as a breeding machine for a monster.

Bill felt himself throbbing in the jumpsuit, his cock hard with heat and angry at not being touched as slick practically _poured_ out of him. He could feel it sliding down his legs and into his socks and even his shoes. He fell back onto one of the mirrors, unaware of Pennywise's face, bulbous with the cracked head and spiked ginger hair, grinning at him from the other side. The lights flickered and Pennywise disappeared.

Bill whimpered as he looked into the mirror across from him, gasping at the sight. He looked _pregnant_ in his reflection, though now the chest of the jumpsuit was sticking out, making him look like he had _breasts_ , like Beverly's... two mounds of flesh resting on his torso...

He gasped, feeling so empty all of the sudden, heat stirring deep inside of him and he whimpered as he felt himself swelling in the jumpsuit, a tent rising and a wet patch already forming on the front, staining the suit even further. He threw his head back against the mirror, sliding down and stopping when he was on his bottom, sitting with his head and back against the glass, his legs spread, the ass of the jumpsuit soaked through, his socks and shoes no different.

His chest felt so strange... he knew his nipples were sensitive spots already but now they felt like small electric shocks were being taken tot hem, little zaps that made pleasure run through his body even though nothing was touching them... was this how the female had felt?

A strange, lone thought drifted in Bill's mind and he knew it was his own... Was Robert the father of her babies? Was that why he was so protective over Bill? Because he'd already lost little ones because of Ben Hanscom from another world? It felt so strange, to feel for even a brief second a sting of jealousy even though he knew it was ridiculous... but he felt so strange.

Bill whimpered. It hurt. His chest hurt. His cock was aching... He knew why. He wasn't being touched. The heat inside of his body, the mating heat, it needed to be satiated and satisfied... the monster inside him told him to just lay down and take it, spread his legs like a good Omega and take Robert's knot.

He wasn't even aware he was putting his hands to his own chest before he was _moaning_ from the feeling. They tighten suddenly, as though he's put ice to them and he squeals at the feeling, pressing his palms to the sensitive peaks and then whining at how the fabric of the suit seems so rough against his skin. And yet he _likes_ the feeling.

He sees, in his reflection, that it looks like he's cupping himself, cupping a pair of breasts that shouldn't even be on his body, and yet it feels flat under his hands. He mewls before he's moaning softly, his lips swollen as they part and short, raspy breaths escape them. Bill could feel himself leaking into the jumpsuit from both ends, not even wearing any underwear, curtesy of Robert, and yet now he's slightly grateful because he thinks it would be too constricting, and he's sitting in the wet spot on the floor but he didn't care. It felt so _good_.

Bill closed his eyes, the lids feeling so heavy. He squeals as he massages his own chest, feeling so _hot_ and so _good_ despite knowing it was so messed up on so many more levels. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold back his moan, when he felt himself twitching and then he cried out as his hips stuttered forward and he felt himself cumming almost instantly, his senses feeling like they were dialed to a _thousand_. He could feel himself spurting into the jumpsuit, already feeling the stickiness of his release touching his cock and even his thighs, so much coming out of him, and yet, he whined as he suddenly felt himself stirring again, as though he hadn't just cum at all.

One of his hands moved from his chest to touch himself through the jumpsuit, cupping himself and rubbing himself against the palm of his hand. His cock twitched and jumped under his own touch and he _whined_. It wasn't enough. It wasn't Robert touching him. It wasn't his _Alpha_.

His eyelids fluttered as he opened his eyes, the light still flickering above him. On and off, black and white, dark and light... he knew the clown was lurking around, probably enjoying the show Bill was basically putting on for him.

Bill whimpered as he felt himself throbbing in his own hand, his cock feeling like it had a pulse of its own, his chest feeling so swollen, his body blazing with an otherworldly fire, one that Bill couldn't put out by himself. Worse still, he liked watching himself in the mirror, touching himself even if his reflection wasn't quite right.

Bill's toes curled as he came a second time, a whorish and desperate moan escaping him, feeling his cock twitching in the jumpsuit and then releasing into it, whining as he came, his reflection mimicking his movements as his legs twitched and jerked and his thighs shook. He ground his ass against the floor, moaning at how _good_ it felt to be touched back there. His reflection copied him, before the light went out, dousing him in darkness.

Bill whimpered, his heart beating faster than normal, a cold creep crawling down his spine. The light came back on, blinding him for a moment, and his reflection was staring right back at him, but it no longer looked pregnant and like it had breasts. It looked like him, but much more menacing.

The reflection was sitting on its haunches, both gloved hands pressed on either side of the glass, the face grinning at him, teeth razor sharp and eyes glowing yellow.

The monster inside of Bill wanted to be touched by Robert, taken by him, fucked and claimed, and _bred_. It felt so heavenly, the heat running through his veins, the warmth in his skin, in his belly and his cock and even his hole, because he felt like he was in a cocoon, all wrapped up, bundled and warm, but it was so hellish at the same time because it felt too hot, almost feverish, because he wasn't being touched. By Robert. The fire inside wasn't dying, quenched only by Robert's touch and knot, it was _blazing_.

Light turned to dark and Bill whimpered, terrified out of his wits, as he saw nothing at all and for a moment he felt like there was nothing there. But he nearly screamed when the light came back on and Robert was standing in front of him, looming over him, grinning at him just the same way Bill's reflection had been grinning.

"Miss me, Billy?" Robert asked him and Bill cried out, the monster inside of him _begging_ for the Alpha in front of him to fuck him already, knot him, and breed him, but the rational part of his brain made him try and flee again, his legs trembling, almost wobbling, as he stood again, leaning on the mirrors for support as he tried to run, but he more or less limped away.

"You can run, Billy!" he whimpered as Robert called to him. "But you can't hide!"

Bill didn't bother to look and see if the clown was still behind him. He _knew_ he wasn't. He was enjoying Bill's suffering, watching him pointlessly try and run as his body fought with his mind. Bill gave a shaky moan as he felt more slick gushing out of him, his face burning with embarrassment as it slid down his thighs, on the backs of his knees, past his calves, and into his socks. He was certain he could hear it _squelching_ in his shoes with each step he took and he felt embarrassed because his body was fighting him, and he couldn't tell if it made him disgusted or turned on.

He leaned his face and front onto the glass, trying his hardest not to just start rutting against it and hump it like a dog. A bitch in heat. Bill swallowed, a lump forming in his throat, before he was falling. He nearly slammed face first into the floor. The heat had spread all over his body, making his toes curl and his cock throb and pulse. Even his nipples seemed to swell further and further until they _ached_.

He turned onto his back, trying not to grind his ass onto the floor. He felt so sticky and sweaty, the smell of sweat and cum and blood and slick so pungent, all rolled into one... and he could smell Alpha scent amidst the reek of death, a predator's scent. He whined as his chest seemed to swell with pain, the lack of touch making it _hurt_. It felt so sensitive, the fabric feeling like sandpaper against skin that already felt so _raw_.

Bill pressed his hands to his chest and then cried, tears streaming, as they throbbed under his touch, feeling as though nails were running over them, scraping and scratching. Why did it hurt so much? Fumbling fingers tried to grip the suit and tear it off, but they were so numb and weak and all he could do was lay there and touch himself and just wait.

He isn't aware of the scene he makes, Robert knows from where he watches, omnipotent, from the flickering shadows. _What a scene he'd make_ , Robert thinks. When Billy had turned feral and attacked Victoria's mom, that had been one thing. The scene of a grown man dressed as a clown fucking a teenage boy in a dirty public bathroom, blood all over the body and the floor, body parts everywhere, was one thing. Horrific and disturbing, but also arousing.

The one thing Robert had always liked about humans, particularly the weak-minded ones, was how easily manipulated they were. The police always investigated the crimes, but gave up after no leads popped up. Adults, they investigated only slightly more. Children were nothing more than faces on posters for the missing.

The scene Billy makes now is that of a desperate, needy little thing that needs to be fucked, pounded into over and over until nothing is left. Until he can't even comprehend a thought. The blood all over him makes the scene worse, to a human's perspective, but he looks absolutely delicious and beautiful in Robert's eyes.

Billy is like the female, but he isn't her. She's gone, just like all of the others. All that remains of a Deadlight after death is the dead light that gave them life, but anything else is gone. There is no personality or sentient being attached to it, other than a mere shadow of it. The orientation and memories from the previous life attached, nothing more and nothing less.

To be explained simply, the power from the female's dead light is fused with Billy's soul. He could never go back to being a human boy and if he ever dies, he won't be with Georgie. He'll end the same way as the Deadlights do. Floating in the nothingness of death until something changes.

Robert misses them, the others. He thinks of his own twin and knows he could've suffered the same exact fate if it hadn't been for Stanley's cowardice. His heart pulled out of a tiny chest by Mike Hanlon and five hands squeezed the heart until it burst and bled and his Deadlights faded away, light turning to dark.

Being the last of one's species always put things into perspective, especially for a sentient, billion old creature. There were never many to start with, but the fact that they were all gone was a genuinely odd thought. Depressing, almost, and Robert realized after seeing his own twin's death, that he was the luckiest out of all of them.

It was the deal, really. If Richie had picked up that baseball bat at the bottom of the pile before Stanley had a chance to leave, then Robert might've suffered the same fate as his twin. But he didn't, and he had Stanley to thank for that. He would be sure to remind Billy of that when the time came. And it _would_.

Why bother making Billy anything like himself? Placing that last remainder of the female's dead light into him? Simple. He wouldn't have survived being pregnant if he was still any bit of human, and he probably would've been eaten alive from the inside. Robert knew it could've posed a risk, and still might, if the Losers try to turn Billy back to their side and Billy had the ability to actually fight back. Even if Deadlights didn't actually fight each other, preferring to avoid each other until mating season came along every few billion years.

But he also knew that Billy hated the Losers more than he hated himself, mostly Stanley and once Billy had killed Stanley, and he would if Robert had his way, then the Losers wouldn't forgive him and would probably try to kill him too. Or they would just give up and either leave again, or accept death. Robert didn't care. All he cared about was his Billy. His Omega.

Revenge was also best served when it wasn't expected, Robert knew this one personally. The Losers of the female's world, oh, yes, they killed her. Though Eds had been killed by her, arm bitten off, and Stanley was dead, actually having gone through with slicing his own wrists in the bathtub. Robert enjoyed killing them. That was the fun part about more than one world, especially in an infinite Macroverse. The Audra of that world had just been a bonus.

He would've killed the other Losers of the other two worlds, but he didn't want to risk it. The Losers of his twin's world remembered everything, so Robert wasn't chancing it. Even if he caught them by surprise, the odds weren't on his side. And for the Deadlight whose suit Billy now donned, well, it still wasn't worth the risk.

If he could, would he go back in time to stop himself from killing Georgie Denbrough? Probably not, because why bother? It would simply mean that Billy and the Losers would've never discovered him, would've never have gone to Neibolt, and would've never made the deal, in this world. Not only that, but looking back on it, if he hadn't killed Georgie, he might've ended up picking them off, one by one.

He was too attached to this little bastard, he knew. That's what he got after keeping him so close to his own mind and heart for 27 years, but that didn't matter. All that mattered now was keeping his Billy away from the Losers. He'd kill Beverly first and foremost because he didn't trust Billy to not still have a childhood crush on her, and he'd make Fat Boy watch Beverly die before killing him too. Billy was _his_. He honestly couldn't wait for the big reveal, with the Ritual of Chud, the one this Mikey had, and Billy's big moment. Whether or not Billy would be showing by then, Robert wasn't sure, but he'd enjoy the reveal either way.

It'd be fun too, because Beverly knew something was interesting with this cycle. She had an idea that there was another creature like himself, but didn't know the entirety of it. Same with Mikey, who knew Billy was alive because Adrian and Don hadn't described Billy as a _corpse_. Or a person with some sort of mangled body part or missing limb. Robert could create as many illusions as he wanted, but there was always some way to see past the facade. Billy being dressed in a clown suit rather than being a mangled corpse was it. Mikey knew that, but the other Losers didn't. Not yet, anyway.

He manifested into the 'Robert' form, remembering how the one thing all of the Deadlights actually liked was clowns. Originally, so sweet and known for performing at the circus, a friendly face. Welcoming to children, calming to adults. He almost felt bad for the real Robert "Bob" Gray and his daughter. Just a kindly circus performer, and yet dead and his alias stolen by more than one Deadlight.

He watched his little Billy squirm and gasp and moan, over and over. He was grinning as he watched. He just loved the scenes this boy made. So sweet, so _delicious_.

"Hiya, Billy," Robert said, watching Billy shiver and tremble.

He knows Billy is getting the full force of his first mating cycle, and since the female's hadn't been finished when she died he was getting the full force of hers. He also knows that his little buds were already so sensitive, so adding on the mating cycle, well, it was torture without touch. Robert knew they were swollen and sore, aching and throbbing, puffy and filled with blood, even without being touched by anything other than the suit and his own hands.

 _The sounds he makes are so much sweeter_ , Robert thinks. Little, almost pitiful whimpers, with little heated gasps and desperate whines. Bill looks at him, eyes glazed over, a shade paler blue than what they were when he was human (another tell that he wasn't one of Robert's illusions), his cheeks red, blotchy and tear stained.

Bill whimpered, afraid and aching, as he saw Robert, dark, soft brown hair, kind, deep blue eyes, with a normal but handsome face staring at him, grinning a predator's grin. His chest felt so _sore_ and yet it felt so _good_. He gave a garbled moan when he felt something inside of his belly, and then his chest... and it made his cock throb and _ache_... and then...

The shame and the embarrassment from his bodily reactions, cumming without barely being touched and slick coming from his body, is _nothing_ to when he felt something wet and warm on his chest, coming from his body, from his nipples and he briefly thinks of his mom even though why the _hell_ is he thinking of his mom at a time like this?

He remembers her feeding Georgie, when Georgie as a baby... Georgie pressed against her chest and he remembers her talking to her adult female friends about _breast feeding_ and...

"No..." Bill murmured, ashamed and disgusted and yet so needy and desperate. "No... fucking... way..." he tried to crawl away but Robert already on his knees, fingertips dancing over Bill's knee and making it twitch and stopping him in place.

His body feels so hot. Bill trembled as Robert lowered his face down to his, breath ghosting over Bill's cheeks, lips inches away from his skin.

"D-d-don't... d-do... th-this... p-p-pu-puh-puh-lease..." Bill begged, though his body betrayed him, his hips thrusting upwards and he gave a sharp cry when he felt Robert's thigh against his cock. "I don't want... I don't want..."

"Shh," Robert murmured before kissing him, slow and languid.

Bill moaned into the kiss and felt Robert's hands on his chest, each hand covering a swollen breast and Bill gasped at the feeling before whining. It hurt even being touched. He tried to swat the hands away but Robert took hold of the chest of the jumpsuit, and...

 _RIP_.

Bill yelped when he felt cold air touching his skin. Robert had torn the jumpsuit open, revealing Bill's chest and Bill had to bite his tongue to hold in the whine he had in the back of his throat when he felt cold air on his nipples. They're flushed, filled with blood, and Bill doesn't know why and that's not even the worst-- or best, Bill doesn't know-- part. White liquid slides down his chest and he realizes his chest is bigger than normal, not the size of Beverly's but still not the size a skinny, thirteen year old boy's should be.

Robert just chuckled at him, each hand on Bill's breasts to where each bud is between his index and middle fingers, making Bill whimper in pain and pleasure as the fingers brush against the sensitive spots.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Robert asked him, smiling a pleased smile.

Bill watches Robert lower his head down to Bill's chest, the clown keeping eye contact as he sticks his tongue out, long and prehensile, pointed and inhuman, and _licks_ the swollen nipple.

It takes everything for Bill not to just cum from that alone, the wet warmth of spit so arousing even though Bill knows it shouldn't be, the movement making his toes _curl_. His cock pulses, leaking pre-cum as his thighs twitch and his legs jerk.

"Why?" Bill murmurs brokenly and he can tell Robert is grinning at him even as he circles the swollen spot with his tongue, teasing it and toying with it.

 _Why?_ Robert's voice echoes in his head almost almost like telepathy. _Because **you** killed her. Because you're **mine**. Because I **can**._

The first reason is fairly hollow, Bill knows. _He_ didn't do it, some other him did it. The last two make the most sense and he knows Robert won't let him go. He'll keep him around for all eternity if he wants, and keep breeding him. Bill knows that for a fact.

Bill sucks in a breath when he feels the hands massaging his chest, cupping him and practically kneading them, fingers toying with his sensitive buds while the tongue wets and teases one. Bill tries to pull the hands off, but Robert is stronger than him, even now. He always will be, Bill knows.

Bill's eyes widen and his mouth falls open when he watches a second tongue sliding out of the clown's mouth, which is slowly stretching out as he keeps grinning. It copies the first tongue and circles Bill's other bud and Bill cries out at the feeling when Robert pushes _down_ on his chest and Bill cries out because it hurts so _bad_ but feels so good at the same time and he gasps at the sight of more white liquid coming out of his body... He knew his body would change, but that much?

Robert doesn't answer, instead both tongues lick the liquid away and that does it. Bill's back arches upwards, chest pushing into Robert's tongue as he cums. His legs kick out and his thighs quake as he cums, _ruining_ the jumpsuit and he a moan that should've been a scream escapes him when he feels sharp teeth on his nipple, biting into his flesh and drawing blood.

His head falls back, his mind hazy and foggy, dizzy with need and he whines pitifully when he feels himself stirring again. He shivers and yelps when he feels Robert sucking at it like the nipple of a bottle... then he moans softly at the feeling even though he knows his blood is going into the clown's mouth... and definitely the white liquid... he feels so disgusting but so hot at the same time. There was no recovery from this. There was no redemption.

Both tongues go back into the clown's mouth and Robert grins at him. Bill knows the clown could flip him over or not and tear the rest of the suit off and fuck him until he couldn't string two words together but he won't. Not at the moment, anyway. He's teasing, because he's probably still mad, and he wants to drag it out just because he _can_.

"F-f-fu-fuh-fuh-fuhcker..." Bill stutters even though he knows it could piss the clown off more.

"Love you too, Billy," Robert says low before he's hovering over Bill's pelvic area and Bill knows it's coming.

Bill pants, gasping as the bottom of the jumpsuit is torn from his person. He tries to swat the clown's hands away but two more gloved hands from above him, not from Robert, take hold of his hands and hold them on either side of his head, holding them down. Bill looks up to see Pennywise grinning down at him, eyes glowing yellow and he whimpers as Robert licks his lips before taking Bill's cock, red and leaking, into his hand, the fabric of the clown's glove feeling so soft against the heated flesh, and then Robert's taking it into his mouth and Bill throws his head back, body jerking as he tries to thrash himself out of both clowns' grips. No avail.

Bill moaned as the wet heat enveloped his cock. The heat inside the pit of Bill's belly roared at him, fogging his thoughts, his cock aching for another release. He could feel Robert's tongue wrapping around his cock, sliding across the vein as it curled around the entirety of it, like a snake wrapping around its victim. Bill was cumming before Robert even started applying suction, hips stuttering upwards, panting before was moaning and then _squealing_ , cock twitching and spurting into the clown's mouth, every last drop swallowed almost instantly.

"Such a needy little slut, aren't you, Billy?" Pennywise taunts him as Robert looks at him, grinning around the cock in his mouth before letting it fall from his mouth with an audible wet popping sound.

"Please..." Bill begged, not even sure if he was begging for it to end or to keep going.

Gloved hands slide under Bill's thighs, gripping the backs and lifting them up and Bill flushes at the pleased purr Robert makes.

"You're _dripping_ ," Robert said, purring again at the end and Bill whimpered as his insides clenched down, his thighs quivering.

Bill whimpered as he watched Robert lick his lips before lowering his head down and Bill threw his head back as he felt the warm wetness of Robert's tongue touching his rim. It needn't even wet his insides, because the slick was coming out of him in _waves_ and the smell of it was so sweet, like a dessert and the low growl from Pennywise and the content hum from Robert was enough to know that it tasted as sweet as it smelled. Bill pressed his lips together, trying to hold in his whimpers and his moans as the tongue pushed in. Farther in than any human tongue could go, just like what Robert had done that very first time.

It still felt so strange, so much different than a cock. It moved of its own accord, moving like it was alive, and swirled around inside of Bill's body, lapping up the slick and teasing the teen. His cock pulsed and Bill couldn't even let out his strangled cry before he was cumming, hips stuttering up and down as Robert's tongue probed that sweet spot inside of him and all Bill could see was the flickering lights before he was spurting all over himself, clenching down on the tongue.

He whined as moments later, Robert pulled away, Bill's cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment at the wet popping and the obviously intentional slurping.

" _Delicious_ ," Robert purred before his long and prehensile tongue licked away Bill's release.

Bill couldn't help but whimper again, his cock stirring as though it wasn't enough and Bill knew it wasn't. He knew that heat inside of him wouldn't be satisfied until it got the knot.

Bill inhaled sharply before he gave a small scream of shock, pain, and pleasure as Robert's cock, monstrously large as ever, was _rammed_ into him. No slow movements and letting him adjust like that very first time, or even after Bill had killed that basher... this was just like when Robert, wearing the Pennywise face, had fucked him int he bathroom. Rough and animalistic, an Alpha dominating the Omega, going in for the _kill_.

It filled the teen in seconds and Bill was certain that if he were still human, not like Robert and the female, then he would've torn... Bill's back arched as he moaned whorishly, Robert lifting his legs up and putting Bill's ankles onto his shoulders, Bill's bottom rising off the ground. His pace was quick, his thrusts _**rough**_ , Bill only able to scream, cry, and moan all at the same time as stars popped into his eyes, cold light flashing with them as his sweet spot was struck, his cock already swelling with head and blood, flaring red and leaking pre-cum, as white liquid beaded on his nipples, leaking down the sides of his swollen breasts.

He grit his teeth as he tried to pull away from Pennywise, and to his surprise, the ginger clown let go of one of his hands, taking hold of his chin instead.

Pennywise moved and turned so that he was sitting next to Bill's head and he turned Bill's face. Bill's eyes widened, seeing that the ginger clown was sporting the same monstrously large cock, pearly white pre-cum dripping from the tip. Bill realized what he wanted...

"No..." Bill murmured, though he cried out when Robert slammed into him, as though punishing him for disagreeing. "No... no... no..."

But it needn't be Pennywise or Robert... his own belly, even after that poor boy... his own stomach... rumbled strangely... taking over his thoughts... needing something in his mouth... the tip of the cock brushed against Bill'slips and he whimpered even as he opened his mouth, but would it even fit?

It felt so strange, having another person's cock in his mouth... oh, the things Bowers would say about him... and yet... Bill positively _moaned_ at the taste. It was warm in his mouth, pulsing as though it had its own heartbeat, even just the tip, and it tasted so strange but not in a bad way... it tasted like... Alpha... Bill moaned around it and opened his mouth as wide as it would, letting his jaw go slack, unaware of how the clowns grinned together. It kept pushing in and Bill could feel his own tongue sliding along the shaft, inhaling sharply through his nose when he felt the vein...

He wasn't even aware of the sight he made, Robert knew. Pretty pink lips wrapped around the duplicate's cock, so adorable in his little clown suit, so beautifully painted with blood, sweat, tears, cum, and even milk... _His_ sweet Billy. He'd never be the same. There was no going back to humanity for him. Whether or not the Losers found out about this little tidbit, Robert didn't know or care. He was still just debating between Mikey and Stanley for Billy's big moment.

Billy would see how much fun it could really be to scare someone, to perfectly season them with fear before going in for the kill. Dean was one thing, but Billy hadn't been the one to scare him. That was Pennywise. It was even better when they were afraid of _you_. Billy hadn't wanted to kill Dean, but considering the fact that all of the Losers, Stanley and maybe even Mikey especially, had it coming, he knew Billy would enjoy what Robert had planned for him, even if he tried to deny it later.

It was just to see how far Billy was really willing to go and he knew it would not end well for Stanley at all. Though, maybe Richie would be a fun way to go... He hadn't planned on this, but when the Losers made the deal... and Billy hadn't been afraid of him and then it was so perfect and he'd been so _delicious_ without actually being eaten and, well... how could he not keep the little brat around? And then after the long rest, when Robert had realized what'd become of the others... _all_ of them...

Who knows how the Losers would react. Mikey knew Billy was alive and Beverly knew about the reproduction cycle, but when they finally put two and two together... Who knows how they would all react to Billy being alive... and then Billy being just like Robert... and then, if it came up, _pregnant_... Robert grinned at the thought, his duplicate mimicking him.

Bill's eyes watered and he choked when he felt the head brushing the back of his mouth, making him gag. He inhaled, sucking in air through his nose and trying not to choke, though it was mostly on instinct rather than need. He whined around the cock, his chest feeling so sensitive, as though it was being touched and teased, pulled at and tormented, but they weren't really...

His eyes shot open when he felt Robert's hands back on them, as though mocking him for that previous thought and he squealed around the cock in his mouth, his free hand flying to Robert's wrist but not even trying to pull it away. Bill's entire body shook as his cock twitched and he violently came all over his belly and Robert's suit.

It didn't even feel like little zaps to his buds, but like electric shocks were coursing through him at the highest voltage, just from those two little spots... Bill cried out, the sound muffled, when he heard Robert grunt, Bill's hole clenching around the monstrous cock inside of him and then Bill was sobbing with relief and pained pleasure as he felt the knot against his rim before it was shoving inside and swelling, locking inside of him and he moaned around the cock in his mouth at the feeling of warmth flooding inside of him, bathing his insides and filling him up. He gagged again, not expecting it when hot cum is suddenly shooting into his mouth and into his throat and he starts to choke, swallowing some and the rest falls out of his mouth, dribbling down his chin.

Bill moaned then, soft and hoarse, when he felt something in his belly, more than just the hunger for flesh and blood... Robert's release was filling him up... Its' release... and then... his head fell back against the floor, Pennywise's cock popping out of his mouth audibly, his body aching a dull, painful, but so good ache. He gasped softly when he felt something stirring in his belly, but not the hunger... and he no longer felt empty... he could _feel_ it.

He could feel something moving inside of him... something otherworldly, something no _human_... a part of Robert... a part of It... but it was part of Bill too. Bill's breath hitched when he felt Robert's hand on his belly, the brown-haired clown purring as he stuck his nose into Bill's neck, the Pennywise disappearing as the lights flickered again.

Robert inhaled, able to smell it instantly and he knew once Billy had fully adjusted, he'd be able to smell it too. The natural scent of death, the scent all predators carried with them, and the smell of warmth, the smell of a living creature, even with the coldness of being an unborn Deadlight... He trailed his fingers over Billy's belly, grinning proudly as the unborn inside seemed to react, stirring inside as though wanting to come out already and say hello to the world and to... Robert's grin grew warm and daresay paternal at his next thought...

 _Daddy_.

Bill gave a sharp cry when he felt Robert rocking into him, cock brushing against his sweet spot, stars popping in his eyes amidst the flickering lights. He gave a shaky moan when he felt Robert cumming into him again, remembering how over several loads would go inside of him for as long as the cock stayed inside of him before it went down, filling him up and he saw his reflection in the mirror and he whimpered, afraid as he felt a second otherworldly being join the first...

His reflection still had a pregnant Belly, with breasts larger than his really were, but there were two small, almost minuscule lights flickering inside of Bill's belly. It looked like something you'd see on an X-ray or, more accurately, an _ultrasound_.

Bill was scared, maybe even still terrified... and even guiltier now than he had ever been before. Even if Robert was forcing him to do it, he was going to be bringing more creatures, more human eating, shapeshifting monsters into the world... or _worlds_. He could blame it on Robert all he wanted but he knew the reasoning was hollow.

It was his own fault too, for being so weak and falling every time, submitting to the clown and succumbing to the blood lust and the heat... it started with being in Robert's Deadlights for 27 years, then biting out the basher's throat... and then it got worse... and then Victoria's mom... and then the icing on the cake was Robert putting the female's light into him, and then Dean...

"How..." Bill gulped, inhaling sharply and trying not to moan at another rough thrust into his sweet spot. "How many...?" he asked, dreading the answer as Robert's hand massaged his belly.

He trembled, tears streaming down his temples, as Robert lowered his face to Bill's neck, inhaling and giving a pleased hum. Though he flinched when he felt a butterfly soft kiss under his ear. Bill jerked and moaned hoarsely when he felt another load entering his body, a third otherworldly _thing_ joining its siblings, all three reacting to... _daddy's_ touch as Bill, or _mommy_ , came again, moaning softly as his spent cock lazily released its load, the heat in his body finally dying down, satiated from the Alpha's knot.

"Lots and lots, Billy," Robert murmured softly, a promise in his words.

Bill knows it's strange but weirdly, now that it's happened... and he can _feel_ the otherworldly creatures inside of him and even see three little balls of light inside his reflection... he doesn't... He doesn't mind. He's not sure if it's from being part of the female or from Robert... but he...

In his own mind, Bill can see himself sitting on Robert's lap holding in his arms a little baby, one that _looks_ one hundred percent human, with a tiny little head full of spiky, short ginger hair and blue eyes. Just like Pennywise. But _she_ has Bill's face and the cutest little button nose. _She_. Bill knows it's a _she_.

"Lots... and lots..." Bill murmurs softly, a promise in his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Mike'll probably be getting his chapter soon, but I think the next one won't be specifically for anyone  
> \- Lots and lots ;)


	15. Mike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I made it Mike's chapter instead of Stanley's. Good, bad? Comments always welcome and holy shit I never thought this would get over 900 kudos. Special thanks to all!  
> \- I used to love Curry's version so much and was even wary of the remake. Silly me. Though I never realized how creepy the originals really were. Too bad they didn't have more than just Brandon Crane(original Ben) in that board meeting.  
> \- Also edits are quite common after posting  
> \- Also, also, taken from my favorite scene in the original second part but instead of just Richie (mostly cause I couldn't think of a way to write it with just him) I made it everybody!(Except Stan, sort of ironic) So I hope it's good

Richie was currently driving through Derry, his fear and his guilty arguing with each other on whether or not he should go back to the townhouse. He felt bad for just walking out right after making Ben think that he was going to stay but what else was he supposed to do? This entire tribal ritual thing sounded fucking stupid, and not only that, but how was a tribal ritual supposed to defeat a monster that was older than all of them combined? And if the first ones who fought It had already used the ritual, shouldn't It already be defeated?

"I should go back there. I just fucking left them in the lurch, man. I should go back there," Richie's guilt made him say. His fear disagreed. "What the fuck are you talking about? Fuck that. Fuck them," the fear made him say. "I got dates in fucking Reno, man," he said before realizing he was passing by a church.

He pulled to a stop as a memory came back to him, one he didn't even remember forgetting. He could year a young Stanley Uris singing in Hebrew, the congregants responding... Richie remembered that day, when Stan was supposed to read from the Torrah and become a man...

"Reflecting on the meaning of what I just read, the word " _Leshanot_ " comes up a lot, which means 'to change, to transform'," young Stanley had said. "Which makes sense, I guess, because today I'm supposed to become a man," he had said before taking a deep breath. "It's funny, though. Everyone, I think, has some memories they're prouder of than others, right? And maybe that's why change is so scary."

"'Cause the things we wish we could leave behind... the whispers we wish we could silence... the nightmares we want most to wake up from, the memories we wish we could change... the secrets we feel like we have to keep are the hardest to walk away from..." young Stanley had said. "The good stuff? The pictures in our mind that fade away the fastest? Those pieces of you it feels the easiest to lose," he had said. "Maybe I don't want to forget. Maybe if that's what today is all about, forget it, right?"

"Thank you, Stanley," Stan's father had said, trying to take the microphone away but Stanley had moved out of the way, stammering before gaining his words back.

"Today, I'm supposed to become a man, but I don't feel any different," Stanley had said, walking down from the stand to keep the microphone away form his dad. "I know I'm a loser. And no matter what, I always fucking will be," he had said and the congregants had gasped and with that, he had thrown the microphone at his dad, tears in his eyes before he ran out the door.

Richie remembered applauding him for finally standing up to his dad. Adult Richie Tozier now sat in the same pew he'd sat in 27 years ago, in the very same spot, looking at the door Stanley had run out.

"Thanks for showing up, Stanley," Richie said, remembering how Beverly and Stan had talked about the fact that Stan was supposed to be dead.

Suicide, no less. By slitting his wrists. The thought still made Richie nauseous and afraid. But he knew why Stanley had felt that way. He was, honestly, the weakest out of all of them. The most afraid, and now, he was probably still the most afraid but now he was also the most guilty because of what they'd done to Bill. Richie had a feeling that Stan had only come back because the guilt stopped him from giving into his fear.

Richie understood that now more than ever. The guilt was the same, though Stan's was definitely the worst since he was the first to go. Barely any second thought. And Richie had followed him right down the tunnel. He hadn't wanted to leave Bill in the sewers, especially alone to die with a hell-spawn wearing a clown's face, none of them did, but they were scared. The reasoning was lame and hollow, Richie knew, but the truth, unfortunately.

Yet Richie was almost certain that if Stan had waited a few more minutes, Richie would've gotten the balls to grab the baseball bat that had been lying on the dirty floor of the sewer at the bottom of the pile of body parts and old toys and he would've hit the clown upside the head with it. Richie didn't blame Stan, because it was his fault just the same, all their faults, but he still wasn't sure on how a tribal ritual was supposed to defeat a shapeshifting, man-eating freak of nature. Especially if the first ones who fought It supposedly did it already.

Either way, Richie wouldn't make the same mistake twice. He made up his mind, the guilt winning over his fear, same as Stan. He was going back.

**********

Mike was alone in the library, wondering if the others had already gotten their tokens and even hoping so, along with Bill's. There was another incident, but the girl, Victoria, had said that the _nice_ clown had taken her birthmark off her face.

Mike honestly didn't know what the hell Pennywise had to gain out of saving a victim of a gay bashing or removing a birthmark from a little girl's face, but he knew it had to do with Bill. He just didn't understand why Pennywise would do anything Bill asked of him, but figured it had to do with the fact that he got four meals instead of one or even two with the bashers instead of Don and Adrian. But Victoria's incident was not without death.

Her mother had gone into the public bathroom and hadn't come back out. The police had gone in there once and wrote it off as a "She'll turn up" sort of thing, and she had. Just not all of her.

There was barely any body left to put into a bag, and what was kind of weird was that one of the mirrors was cracked, but there was no blood on it. But the weirdest part was that the mother, an adult, had died instead of her daughter, a child. Mike figured that was also part of Bill's doing, and he understood the situation. Between mother and daughter, adult and child, saving the child was the best of bad scenario.

He didn't blame Bill. He'd saved Adrian and probably Don and the Lisa girl along with Victoria. The only reason he knew it was Bill, not one of Pennywise's illusions to mess with his head, was because neither Adrian nor Don described him as a corpse.

Mike knew, from the visions, that Pennywise's illusions took the forms of corpses or people with mangled body parts or some kind of injury that no human could really survive from. Similar to Mike's burning parents and Georgie missing an arm.

Mike knew Bill was alive and figured this was Pennywise's way of torturing all seven of them some more, but Mike honestly believed that with the seven of them performing the ritual, even if the first ones that had faced It had perished, then it would work. They just had to believe in the ritual, get Bill back to them, and they could defeat It.

Though, he knew Bill would have a grudge against them but he didn't blame him for that either. But surely Bill, even for a few moments, would see the benefit of letting go of the past, just long enough to kill Pennywise once and for all. Then, whatever happened next would happen. He wouldn't blame Bill for hating his guts, because he'd left third, right after Richie.

He sighed. What was done was done. But that didn't change the fact that after 27 years, Bill Denbrough wasn't forty years old. He was still only thirteen. Don had described him as a kid, not a man. The guilt ate his insides, but they had to try. And even though it was a nasty, horrible, unforgivable thought, Mike figured that if they hadn't left Bill, then all seven of them wouldn't be alive right now and able to perform the ritual, since Stan, according to Beverly, was supposed to be dead already. It didn't make up for what they did, but it was something.

Mike started to walk away from the window, walking through the bookshelves and then he stopped when he heard something falling behind him, thudding on the floor. He turned around, the familiar cold creep of fear crawling down his spine. He wasn't alone, he knew once he turned back and saw the book on the floor.

He walked back, his insides slowly turning cold with fear as he picked up the book and opened it, though without his fingers, it flipped to the middle. He saw a newspaper article inside and resisted the urge to scowl and cry at the same time.

**Two Crackheads Dead in Harrison Avenue Fire**

**Child Survives**

He saw the burning picture of the fire, a picture of himself when he was younger, and a mangled, burnt body. He knew this particular article was fake, part of Pennywise's illusions, because no printed newspaper article, even one from Derry, would ever say something like that. Only its residents did. Mike remembered that horrible day and even now, he could still hear his parents screaming as though it was happening at that very moment.

"Mike! Help!" his mother had cried from the other side of the locked door, which was emitting heat and behind it flames crackled.

He could hear her screaming as she and his father fought to open the door, the flames crackling evilly behind her.

"Help us!" she had screamed desperately. "Please, Mikey, get help!"

"Help us!" his father had begged.

Mike had just sat there, crying, staring at the door, too scared to move and open the door or go get an adult.

"Please, Mikey, help us!" his mom had cried.

"Please, Mikey, get help!" his dad had yelled.

Mike would never forget the smell of burning flesh for as long as he lived. He knew that for a fact. He sighed, lowering the book when he realized someone was running at him with a knife, yelling angrily. He knew instantly it was Henry Bowers.

Henry charged him, trying to grab him and ram his blade into Mike and the two fought, Mike getting pushed back before he was able to turn and throw Henry into a table, shattering the glass and breaking it.

Mike stared at him, eyes wide and Bowers glared up at him. Mike saw the knife and tried to grab it, but Bowers punched him in the leg and then the face, knocking Mike to the floor.

Bowers laughed at him, stumbling a bit before grabbing his knife from the floor. He giggled as he aimed the knife at Mike, who struggled to slide back on the floor.

"You should have burned, Mike," Bowers said, grinning at him.

Bowers stilled, still smiling a madman's smile.

"You don't know..." Bowers giggled. "Bevvy didn't tell you, did she?" he said before frowning. "Or... you didn't tell her..." he said.

Mike stared up at him, trying to scramble backward.

"It won't work... the ritual..." Bowers said. "You're all fucked..." Bowers laughed. "Not as much as Denbrough but you're fucked!" he cackled before yelling and charging him again.

Just like 27 years ago, Bowers struck him in the face and hovered above him, trying to kill him, but instead of the gun his grandfather used for killing the sheep, it was Bowers' knife hovering only inches above his face, ready to pierce flesh, draw blood, and kill.

Mike tried to push Bowers' hands away, but Bowers, even now, was stronger than he was.

"Just like your druggie parents," Bowers said, his eyes wide and deranged.

Mike was grunting, trying to keep the knife away from his face.

"Can you see them yet?" Bowers asked him. "Can you see them yet?" he repeated before he started laughing, the wrinkles in his face pronounced. "Crisping?" he taunted.

Both grunted as one tried to push up and the other tried to push down.

"Like fried fucking..." Bowers started to say before he groaned, suddenly stilling.

Mike stared up at him, confused, before Bowers lowered his head and he saw one of the Native American hatchets sticking out of his head. Bowers' body fell to the side, Mike shoving him off, and he saw Richie standing above him, looking terrified and surprised.

"I guess you could say that was long overdue," Richie said, smiling awkwardly. "Get it? 'Cause we're in a library," he said before turning and retching.

"Oh..." Mike sighed, hoping he wouldn't have to be the one to clean this up.

"Mike?" Mike heard Beverly's voice calling.

"Hey," he heard Ben.

"Hey. Oh, my God," Beverly said as the two ran in.

Beverly screamed when she saw Bowers' body.

"Are you all right?" Ben asked.

"No, I'm not all right. I just fucking killed a guy," Richie said unhappily.

"I was talking to Mike," Ben said awkwardly as Eddie, his face bandaged, and Beverly, a hand over her mouth, stared at them.

Mike sighed as he wrapped his arm before he realized they were missing somebody.

"Where's Stan?" he asked.

He called Stan, who answered immediately.

"Stan, we're all at the library," Mike said. "Where are you at?" he asked.

Stan started to stutter and it took all of Mike's self-restraint not to flinch.

"He took a little kid, Mike," Stan stuttered out and Mike could hear carnival music in the background. "He took a little kid right in fucking front of me," Stan said, sounding ready to start crying.

"No, no, no, no, no. Just, just... Look, just come here to the library. We can talk about the plan," Mike said.

"It looked like Bill, Mike," Stan said, the memory rewinding like a movie.

Mike froze.

"What?" he asked.

"The face... the face that... ate the kid... it looked like Pennywise and then it looked like Bill... this is so... fucked up... I just wanna go home..." Stan said, crying now.

Mike wasn't sure how to feel, but his body felt all kinds of things. His back felt so frozen that it was burning, that his bones were turning to lead. Bill couldn't have killed the kid Stan was talking about... right? It was just Pennywise's illusions...

"Did... did he look like a monster? A corpse?" Mike asked.

"A big ass monster face with more teeth than necessary, Mike," Stan spat angrily, still sobbing.

Hope flickered like a dying flame in Mike's chest. It could go either way, it was one or the other. It could've been one of Pennywise's illusions to taunt Stan, or it could've been Bill. Mike hoped it was the former.

"Did he say anything?" Mike asked.

"No, he just... ate the fucking kid... tell Richie he's an asshole..." Richie looked up at that, frowning.

Mike clenched his fist. It had to be one of Pennywise's illusions. It had to be. If it was a corpse or a monster, then it couldn't have been Bill... right?

"I don't think I can do this, Mike..." Stan said.

"Hey, we can do this. Together, all right?" Mike said. "Just come to the library and we'll regroup... we'll talk about the plan," Mike said.

Stan was about to say that the plan was bullshit, when something caught his eye. A red balloon with an arrow on it. Stan felt the cold creep of fear crawling down his spine, tingling goosebumps itching down his skin. But at the same time, he felt guiltier than ever.

"I have to kill It," Stan said suddenly, his words braver than he actually felt.

"What?" Mike asked, wondering where this was coming from.

It sounded like the sort of thing Bill would say. Not Stan.

"No, no, no, just come to the library, Stan. We're all here. We're all together. That's safer," Mike said.

"This is my fault. Bill is dead because of me. I don't want any of you to get killed with me," Stan said before hanging up.

"Stan! Stan!" Mike said before hearing the phone click.

Mike turned to Richie.

"He's going to fight It alone," Mike said.

"What?" Richie asked, looking confused.

"Alone," Mike said as he grabbed the totem. "It's about the group. The ritual doesn't work without the group. Doing it together is why it'd work," he said as Richie grabbed the totem and Mike knew he was looking at the side he'd purposefully cut off.

Mike took it back, hoping Richie wouldn't think too much into it.

"Mike, did he tell you where he was going?" Ben asked.

"If he really wanted to kill Pennywise, there's only one place he'll go," Beverly said, her eyes wide.

"The same place the ritual needs to be performed," Mike said.

"Oh, we're not gonna like this, are we?" Eddie asked, already knowing the answer. "Fuck."

Mike sighed.

"Let's go," he said.

The others started to head towards the door when something caught his eye. A red balloon. There were no words on it. It seemed to be calling to him, and even though he knew it was one of Pennywise's tricks, he couldn't stop himself from saying his next words.

"Go on, I'll catch up. I'll see you at Neibolt," Mike said and the others all stared at him, confused and maybe even worried.

"I thought together was best," Ben said, looking confused.

"It is but... I gotta get something first," Mike said.

The others shared a look but clearly figured it was pointless trying to argue, and they were about to walk out, when a familiar voice stopped them in their tracks.

"A little shifty aren't ya, Mikey?" Bill's voice said.

All of them looked around, not seeing Bill anywhere.

"You all heard that, right? That's not just me?" Richie asked, eyes wide as they all looked around, seeing nothing.

"Beep, beep, Richie," Bill's voice said.

"I didn't hear that... I didn't," Richie said.

"Come on up, Losers. I got balloons for you," Bill's voice said and they all looked up onto the bookshelf where Bill Denbrough was sitting, his legs dangling over the side.

He was holding a newspaper in front of his face and he laughed as he lowered it, revealing the boy they all remembered, but he wasn't wearing the same clothes as 27 years ago.

Bill's face was painted white, his lips painted red, a red ball on his nose, and he was staring at them with a grin that was anything but friendly. He wore a clown costume, not like the Pennywise they knew and yet it reminded all of them of the ginger haired monster anyway. He wore a bright yellow, baggy jumpsuit that had three orange pompoms running down the front. The sleeves were puffy and striped, teal and purple, just like the middle ruffle around his neck, two more on the top and bottom that were white. He wore black sleeveless vest that had pink lining and he had white gloves on his hands.

He lowered the newspaper, still laughing and they saw six red balloons in his hand.

"Don't you want a balloon?" Bill asked them, laughing as he did. "What's the matter?" Bill asked. "Six balloons not enough?" he asked as he stood on the shelf. "Try a bunch!" he yelled as he stuck his arm up.

All five of them jumped when they heard old, upbeat carnival music playing and saw balloons of all colors, red and orange, pink and blue, green and yellow, dozens of them, floating above their heads, near the ceiling. The balloons slowly floated down as Bill laughed.

Beverly screamed and nearly fell on Ben while Eddie started to hyperventilate, repeating "Fuck" over and over again even as Richie grabbed his hand. Mike, however, just stared up at Bill, frozen with shock and fear. There was no indication, nothing at all, that suggested that he was one of Pennywise's illusions. He was all there, the only odd thing being that he was dressed like a clown... no blood, no guts, no missing or burnt or torn limbs... and his eyes. They were a bit paler than Mike remembered, but certainly not yellow or even red like Pennywise's.

Beverly started to cry as Ben tried to wrap his arms around her, Bill laughing merrily at their fear and their guilt. Bill giggled as an orange balloon floated down in front of Beverly and popped, blood spraying all over her face and her front and even Ben's front and neck and she screamed, terror written on her face as she began babbling out apologies and sobbed at the same time.

Richie yelled and batted a blue balloon away, but it was pointless as a second floated in front of Eddie's face and Eddie gave an unmanly yelp and an unhappy yell as the balloon, also blue, popped and most unfortunately, his mouth was open.

A green one popped in front of Ben, splattering him in blood and making him cry out as a yellow one floated down in front of Richie, popping and blood sprayed all over him.

Beverly had thrown herself on the floor, sobbing and wailing, screaming incoherent words that Mike knew were broken apologies and desperate pleas. A single yellow balloon floated in front of Mike and simply popped, no blood in it and he couldn't help but gasp and jump from the horrible sound.

It took Eddie, Richie, and Ben to yank Beverly from the floor and they had to drag her to the door and out of it.

"C'mon, Mike!" Ben yelled as Eddie started screaming, nearly tripping over his own two feet as he left go of Beverly and ran past Richie.

Mike didn't move even as the four of them left the building. Instead he stared up at Bill, who was grinning down at him, a leg crossed over his shin, one hand holding the other elbow and the hand attached was holding his face.

"You're not Bill," Mike said, not really sure but he had to believe it wasn't.

Bill's grin simply grew, a grin so similar to Pennywise's and Mike knew.

"Why?" Mike asked, not really sure what he was asking.

Bill stared at him.

"Why?" Bill repeated.

Mike jumped when out of nowhere, Pennywise appeared right behind Bill, his arms wrapped around Bill's middle, pulling him close. Well, the person was _dressed_ like Pennywise, like an Italian opera clown, but didn't have the bulbous, cracked head or the spiky ginger hair Pennywise usually had. Instead it was a handsome man with a head full of dark brown hair, but the same ominous yellow eyes.

"Because you deserve it," Bill said simply, leaning back against Pennywise, the back of his head against the clown's chest. "Because I _**can**_ ," he added.

"Bill... we can fix this..." Mike said desperately, ready to start begging.

Bill stared at him. He'd been hesitant, obviously, to do anything at all. But he knew from the start that Robert would have his way no matter what. After killing Dean in front of Stanley, Robert had repeatedly fucked him until this very moment. Not that Mike or anyone else knew it, but underneath the baggy jumpsuit was a belly that was just starting to form a bump, a baby bump. Just starting to swell with the unborn. So the idea of scaring his old friends, now nothing more than the people who condemned him to this life, had been a scary thought for him. How would they react? That had been his first question. And then he realized they would just think he was one of the clown's illusions.

It was weird, being able to do the things that Robert could do. Manifesting something as simple as a balloon, though filled with blood, was one thing, but Robert said once he was adjusted enough, he'd be able to do whatever the hell he wanted. The implication was, he could do whatever the hell he wanted to the Losers. Torture them for as long as he wanted, and if they tried to stand up against him, he'd just be rid of them and send them to the deepest part of the Macroverse.

And his laughing at the Losers, those laughs were real. He enjoyed taunting them with the fear of Pennywise and their guilt of what they'd done to him. He enjoyed it and it even made him feel like he was on an adrenaline high. He honestly felt like he could do it again.

The smell of fear had been tempting, even if they were all adults. But seeing Bill had thrown them back into childhood, in their minds. The trauma, more specifically. And the guilt of what they had done made it all the more better. Bill could sense it, just like Robert, and even smell it and even hear it. Smell the fear crawling through their bones, creeping through their veins and turning their blood cold, and hear the rapidness of their still beating hearts.

Beverly had been the worst. Throwing herself to the floor, giving apologies that in reality, meant nothing. And she was even begging for mercy, not that she realized that. She was too far into her broken mindset to realize it. And yet Bill had no love for her. No childish crush because she was pretty Beverly Marsh and a lot nicer than the shitty town of Derry made her out to be. Ben had been afraid of Bill, supposedly really Pennywise, and yet he was more afraid for Beverly than he was himself. Bill didn't care about him either.

Then Richie was the same as Ben, except caring more for Eddie than anyone else, not that he even realized it at that moment. Eddie had been terrified out of his wits, the second most weakest after Stanley. If it wasn't Stanley that Robert took out first, it would be Eddie. And Mike, he was afraid too and guilty. But he wasn't just guilty about what he'd done to Bill. He was guilty that he was lying to the others about the Ritual of Chud, and he was afraid that Bill wouldn't let the past be the past, even long enough to kill Robert.

But they deserved it, Bill thought. They'd damned him to a fate worse than death. A death he would never see and he wouldn't even get to go to some Heaven or even a Hell for humans after death. He'd end up like the other Deadlights. Floating in the coldness of nothing. He didn't want that, and seeing the little face in his mind, that of a beautiful baby girl... some part of him didn't want the others to win. He wanted to see them all get theirs. Or at the very least, have a point be made. Go away or die. He knew some of these thoughts were Robert's, but deep down they were his too.

And Bill knew that it was wrong, scaring them like that, doing it himself with Robert right behind him, invisible to their eyes until now, but he didn't care. He enjoyed scaring them. They deserved it. His only regret was that Stanley was still at the carnival. Though he wasn't very impressed that _now_ of all times, Stanley was getting the balls to stand up to Pennywise. Even if he thought he'd die anyway.

"Fix?" Bill asked him, unaware of his eyes slowly turning from pale blue to a pale shade of red. "Fix what?" he asked and he could smell the sweetness of Mike's fear mixed with the salty flavor of his guilt.

Weirdly enough, the two mixed together made a better smell on an adult. Not as good as a child's pure, raw fear, but a close thing.

"The fact that you left me to die?" Bill asked him and the guilt was piercing Mike's insides like Bowers' knife. "There's nothing to fix, Mike," Bill said brokenly as Robert pet his head.

"Bill... there's seven of us... the Ritual of Chud... we'll kill him. We can do this," Mike said, his eyes begging.

Bill stared at him. The idea of killing Robert sounded ridiculous, almost impossible even though he knew personally that Deadlights could die. But the thing was, even after everything. Being traded, being... well, losing his virginity to a billion old monster-- Robert pinched his cheek for that-- Bill didn't care anymore. Whether or not the Losers lived or died didn't matter. Robert would have his way and kill them, most likely, or at least, Stanley, maybe Eddie just to hurt Richie... quite possibly Beverly... and yet...

Bill hated Stanley. He hated them all, but Stanley the most. Ben too, for urging Beverly to ditch Bill, but Stanley the most.

But it was the very idea of Robert, the last original Deadlight, dying that actually bothered Bill and these were his own thoughts. Not Robert's or from the female's light. These were Bill's thoughts. What was he even going to do if Robert died? Would he die? Would his unborn die? Even if they didn't, that'd leave Bill alone. He didn't like the idea of that. Not after everything, even if it was fucked up. There was no redemption for what Bill had done, no matter what sort of promises Mike made. So there was no point in trying to change anything.

Bill hated the fact that this is what had become of this life. That he was a monster, just like Robert. Just like the female. He hated that his so called friends had left him even if he'd urged them to leave. It still stung, knowing that he mattered so little to them at the time and it was kind of worse to think that now they felt guilty. They hadn't felt very guilty 27 years ago when they did it, so in Bill's mind they had no right to feel guilty now. And Mike had no right to ask him for forgiveness, even long enough for them to try and hurt and maybe even kill Robert. There was no point in it. Bill wasn't going to die so they could live. He'd already been changed because of them, his life ruined and no chance of ever seeing Georgie again. They didn't deserve forgiveness. They deserved what Robert was going to give them.

"No," Bill said simply as Robert whisked them away, leaving Mike alone in the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Good, bad? Comments and kudos and constructive criticism always welcome and appreciated!  
> \- Sorry if it's a tad short  
> \- Not sure when the next chapter will be up but there'll definitely be smut(like a lot of it) and revenge coming up. So, someone's going to die, just a forewarning ;)


	16. Bill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- So, there is smut in this chapter and it's alien sex and surprisingly, a particular scene from Nightmare on Elm Street 3 made it into this chapter so it can either be really good or really weird  
> \- The next chapter is going to have something very special in it, that's all I can say for right now ;)  
> \- And to answer a particularly special question about how I come up with this stuff: I have no idea. I suppose it comes from spending years of watching horror films  
> \- I love all the comments and kudos that have come to this story

Bill tried not to shiver from the coldness of Robert's fingers running over his bare belly. After the incident in the library, Robert had whisked them away and took Bill back into the sewer before taking him deeper into the earth, where millions of years ago, in human time, Robert, at the time a creature with no other name besides Alpha, had struck.

The ground, even so many years later, was still formed in an upwards position, almost a dozen jagged spikes with holes in them forming together, almost like a cage, and it sort of reminded Bill of an empty hive. At least, a hive that was currently empty.

The clown had stripped him of his baggy jumpsuit and Bill looked away from the clown, down at his feet, his cheeks growing warm as his embarrassment showed.

"Oh?" Robert murmured, pressing his lips to Bill's temple and Bill could _feel_ the smirk. "Don't tell me you're _shy_ ," he teased, a purr in his words.

Bill couldn't help it. He flushed and shivered. It still felt so strange, even now, to be naked in front of the clown. In front of the Alpha. And it still felt so strange when he felt the unborn creatures inside of him stirring. Robert said they were sleeping and having pretty dreams. Except for one, that is.

This one in particular seemed to be excited even though it wasn't even born yet, and Robert referred to this one as his little girl. Even Bill could tell, just like Robert, that the happy little light inside of him was going to be a girl.

He wasn't so sure if he liked the fact that he knew it would be a girl, or if he resented it. He liked it, because it was his little girl too, and the light inside of him, the female's light that was now forever fused with him, now part of him, liked it very much. But the still human part of his mind, or the part that still tried to cling onto human morals wasn't so happy about it.

It wasn't that it resented the baby inside of him. It was more that he resented his so-called friends. He was just scared of what would come of it when they were born... and if the Losers, if they found out, would try to hurt him and his babies... He just... he loves the little baby even though she wasn't born yet... the light stirred happily inside of him...

"She loves you too," Robert murmured softly, fingertips trailing down the small bump that was slowly growing on Bill's belly, expanding with each new light added.

Bill felt his eyes grow warm, suddenly stinging with tears. But they weren't even tears that meant he was afraid of the little creatures inside of him or even Robert. They weren't even tears of sadness or even regret and guilt. They were tears of _happiness_. Tears of _joy_. It was like the tears that were shed when someone was so happy about something, that they couldn't help but cry because the emotion was so overwhelming. It was just that Bill couldn't believe it, and both the female's light and Bill Denbrough were so happy about the little girl.

He didn't know how long he would be pregnant with this particular... well, the word _litter_ could be the easiest term used since there was definitely more than one. But he also knew that Robert would keep up the cycle and impregnate him again and again every 27 years, whether Bill agreed or not and even though it seemed like the mating cycle only happened every million or so years, Bill had a feeling Robert would keep Bill pregnant for the rest of eternity if he could.

"Damn right, Billy boy," Robert murmured, taking the lobe of Bill's ear into his mouth, sucking on it and Bill's cock twitched between his legs at the feeling.

Even after being impregnated, his body still had that same otherworldly heat crawling under his skin, creeping through his veins. It made him want _more_. The heat inside of him wanted the Alpha's knot over and over again and it wanted more and more babies. It made him want and ache for Robert and his knot even after that first light had gone inside of him, even after he was full of little lights.

Bill's flush darkened as Robert's thoughts invaded his mind. He still wasn't used to the fact that now he could hear Robert's thoughts just as Robert had always been able to hear his. But it wasn't even that he was hearing them so much as he was _seeing_ them. He could see the mental images inside of Robert's mind and he knew the bastard was sending on purpose.

Bill, in Robert's mind, was tied up, multiple tentacles holding him in place as the clown fucked into his body from behind, the knot snagging in Bill's body and locking the two of them together and Robert's cock was pumping Bill full of more lights. Another image was a tentacle fucking into him, rough and yet still teasing. It was the third image Robert acted on first.

He took hold of Bill's wrists and at the same time, pushed Bill backwards, but instead of falling on the cold earth like he'd expected, Bill felt comfortable, soft sheets underneath his back and he realized that Robert had manifested a bed. Bill was certain he would never fully understand the whole concept of reality-shaping even though the idea of being able to have whatever you want, whenever you wanted it sounded appealing to most people. And since it was in Robert's nest, near the very heart of his existence, he had free reign to do as he pleased.

Bill looked up at the clown. He wore the face of Robert, the face of the circus performer before It had killed him years ago. The performer's daughter, who would grow up to be Mrs. Kersh, had been the only one who actually knew how her father had really died. She had taken the secret with her to the grave, before her identity was another thing stolen by It and then used to taunt Beverly.

But it was so strange to think about that the one thing that all of the Deadlights had shared in common was their fondness for clowns. Though, it was simple, really. Clowns used to be a happy thing that made people smile and laugh. And most kids would love to get a balloon from a clown at the circus, so for a child eating monster, a clown was the perfect lure.

Bill's eyes widened with shock and his flush darkened as he watched Robert shed the clown suit. Despite everything, Bill honestly thought it was weird to think about how this was the first time he was actually seeing the clown naked. Or, at least, was seeing some form of the clown naked. Other than the disturbing haggish form of Mrs. Kersh and the pure, dead light behind those blue eyes.

The body itself was a handsome one, with lean and developed muscles rippling under the pale flesh. It was an acrobatic's body, thin and perfectly muscled, not overly, and the cock between his legs was just as monstrous as always. Bill trembled, his face burning as the clown grinned at him, knowing his dirty thoughts.

But it was still strange for Bill. This had never happened before and despite everything he'd already gone through, Bill felt exposed and beyond embarrassed. It was still embarrassing for him to be naked in front of this creature despite everything Robert had already done to him, and it was weird to see an actual body underneath the clown suit even if it had been someone else's. His face was still painted white, red lipstick on his lips and red lines running from the corners of his mouth to above his eyebrows, but the rest of him was pale flesh that looked just so very _tempting_.

Robert held each wrist down to the bed, on each side of Bill's head and Bill whimpered as he felt the wetness of the slick sliding out of him, soiling the soft sheets underneath. Robert's tongue flicked out from between his lips, the clown lowering his head to Bill's neck and trailing the wet muscle over the skin, teeth teasing the sensitive spots of Bill's neck as the tongue trailed down.

Bill jumped when he felt fingers brushing against his nipple and he arched up into the cold touch, seeing the extra arms that Robert had manifested. He whimpered as the fourth touched his other nipple, fingers teasing the sensitive bud.

Robert grinned down at him, face inches above Bill's, as his extra hands pushed _down_ and Bill whined at the feeling of pain from the pressure, but the pleasant, tingly feeling made it worth it even as the white liquid, the milk, slid out of him and he turned his head away, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment as Robert licked at the nipple, Bill trying to hold back his squeal.

But he can't help but mewl when he feels Robert's lips around the nipple and his arms jerk, his toes curling into the sheets as Robert sucks on the spot and Bill whines, embarrassed, when he realizes what the clown is doing.

"St-stop that..." Bill gasps, though he can't stop himself from arching his chest into the mouth.

Robert ignored him, though he did chuckle, and he kept sucking at the nipple and Bill squirmed as Robert purposefully made noises as he kept _swallowing_. His breasts were slowly becoming what they had been in his reflection, bigger than normal, almost like a girl's, filled with milk, the nipple flushed and aching. The only relief was Robert's touch and the wetness of his tongue, which slid across the rosy bud before sharp teeth bit down and Bill--

"Oh! Oh!" Bill cried out as his cock suddenly twitched and spurted out his release, shooting it out onto his belly.

But Robert didn't stop, he chuckled darkly around the bud in his mouth, the vibrations making Bill's toes twitch and his cock stir again as he kept sucking, throat moving up and down as he swallowed. Bill could feel every last second of it and he whined, hands balling into fists as the clown kept him pinned, taking what he wanted.

Bill gave a garbled moan as he felt the slick sliding out of him, not yet gushing but he could tell it was coming. His body felt so hot already, his cock already throbbing again between his legs even though Robert still wasn't touching him there. Bill whined, trying to thrust his hips upwards, almost trying to rut against the strong thigh above him, and give the clown the idea, but Robert just ignored his desperation, purposefully teasing the boy.

"Please..." Bill begged, the otherworldly fire stirring in his belly and wanting _more_.

Bill's toes curled into the sheets, a desperate moan falling from his lips as he felt himself cumming again, spurting all over himself and painting his belly with more white. He whined when he felt Robert pulling away, the cold air brushing over the wet nipple, and he was torn between wanting more and wanting it to stop. Robert licked his lips and even his teeth, making a show of it, and grinning at the teen. Bill shook his head, the mental images coming to his mind like a projector and he knew what the clown was going to do.

"D-d-don't..." Bill tried to beg even as Robert's lips wrapped around the other nipple and Bill sobbed as a groping hand found its way back to the already tormented bud, a cold palm cupping the swollen breast as relentless fingers teased him.

Bill writhed and squirmed in Robert's grip as the clown teased and sucked at the other nipple, tongue swirling and taunting. Bill's cock pulsed, flaring with heat and flushing with blood. Cumming didn't matter. There was no real relief without Robert's knot. Bill cried out as he came a third time, his cock twitching as white ropes spurt out, sticking to his belly and soiling him further.

Robert pulled away and Bill sobbed, clenching his fists. Robert kissed him then and Bill gave a sharp gasp when he tasted the milk. It tasted surprisingly sweet, rich even, and he moaned into the kiss as Robert's tongue licked at his.

Robert kept kissing him even as one of his extra hands slid down Bill's side, sliding down until it held the back of Bill's thigh and lifted it up. Bill whimpered into the kiss, feeling fingers brushing against his rim.

Robert had only ever stretched him once before, when he'd claimed Bill's body for himself for that very first time... this was just teasing. The slowness and dragging it out was just because he wanted to. Just because he could.

He was simply enjoying himself while waiting for the Losers to come and try to kill him. Bill knew that Robert would taunt them with the fact that without Bill, they were screwed. Someone was going to die, Bill knew, but he didn't know yet if it was going to be Stan, Beverly, Mike, Ben, or Eddie... or if Robert was going to say "Fuck it" and kill all of them.

Bill knew Robert wanted him to pick one for himself to kill and if necessary, Robert would take care of the rest. Bill knew who his two obvious choices were.

Stan, for being the person most responsible for Bill's fate. Or it would be Ben, for having urged Beverly to leave Bill instead of try and help him and maybe even Beverly would've been able to convince Stan to stay. And Bill knew Robert had a bone to pick with him anyway, even if it wasn't necessarily his fault that the female's unborn were dead and the Ben actually responsible was already dead.

Bill gasped and shuddered as he felt Robert's fingers moving inside of him, his body opening easily and letting the clown in as it always had and most likely always would. Fingers speared him open, moving in scissoring motions that were slow and teasing. Bill grit his teeth, trying not to whine, as he felt the slick gushing out of him, coating Robert's fingers and the clown made sure to press down on Bill's walls. Bill cried out, his body jolting upward when he felt Robert pressing down on that sweet spot deep inside of his body.

He couldn't really choose which Loser to kill. He knew his obvious choices were Stan or Ben, but how was he supposed to pick? Stan was the reason Bill was here now, a Deadlight like Robert and pregnant with his babies, and he would most likely stay pregnant for the rest of eternity. At the same time, Ben was responsible for it just the same and he was just as much of a bastard because he'd convinced Beverly to leave too, pushing her into it.

And even though it wasn't very fair to this Ben, Bill still sort of held a grudge against him because he would probably be dead and not pregnant if not for the other world's Ben. Though, Bill knew the grudge mostly came from the female'slight, as she had known that her unborn were being killed as she tried to flee.

It wasn't very fair to this Ben, but Bill couldn't help how he felt and he certainly couldn't help how the female had felt, and he couldn't help how her light made him feel worse. He felt the same pain and loss the female had and could feel it from her memories, the agony she had been in knowing that her babies were being killed and she couldn't fight back as Ben destroyed them.

Robert might've killed that world's Ben already, sort of avenging the female and those unborn, but it didn't matter. They were still dead and this world's Ben deserved to die just as much as the rest of them, Stan especially.

But then there was Mike, who actually had the audacity to ask Bill for forgiveness, even for a moment, just long enough for them to try and kill Robert. And Mike was a liar, bordering madness. He was keeping it a secret from the other Losers that the Ritual of Chud, this world's version, was a load of bullshit and that the Shokopiwah had been killed by It years ago.

And even though the Losers knew something was strange and questionable about the ritual, for that very reason, they didn't question it because they were too scared. And Mike was playing on that fear and using it to get them to do what he wanted.

The saddest thing was, Mike had honestly deluded himself into thinking that if they truly believed in it, like it was some sort of fairy tale, and Bill took their side over Robert's, then they could kill It.

Bill knew it was a possibility that Robert could die, but what was the point of fighting it anymore? Even if the Losers did kill Robert, and Bill lived, then he would be alone. He would outlive all the other Losers and probably be trapped in Derry for the rest of eternity. Even if he had his babies, there was no guarantee that Bill would be able to stop them from hurting people who didn't deserve it.

And Bill wondered, with only Robert knowing, if the Losers would try and kill him and his babies if they did manage to kill Robert. They didn't care for him very much 27 years ago, and if they thought Bill was a threat, then what would stop them from trying to kill him too? And if they knew he was pregnant, Mike especially, and going to bring more creatures like Pennywise into the world, then it didn't matter. They most likely wouldn't hesitate to kill Bill and his babies and he didn't want that.

But the thing was, Bill didn't want to kill Robert. It wasn't out of sympathy for Robert being the last of his species, the last of the original Deadlights, it was just because Bill didn't want to. It was sick to think about, but what was he even going to do if Robert died? It wasn't that Bill thought he was nothing without him, but what was the point in trying to kill him?

He had nothing to go back to. His parents were dead, he had no friends, and he was a monster. He'd killed people who deserved it and one who didn't. He had nothing except his babies, and now, that was all he wanted. All he wanted was to stay away from the world outside of the nest, and have that little girl from his thoughts.

Then, for the Loser to kill, there was Eddie, Richie, and Beverly. Bill hated them too, Eddie and Richie for not convincing Stan to stay and Beverly just the same, but it was worse because Beverly had taken Ben's hand and just left him there. Left him to die. And he'd thought she was pretty and nice, and maybe he even had a crush--

Robert growled, low and predatory. Dangerously possessive and Bill trembled.

The point was, while he was sure he would feel guilty if he stood idly by and let Robert kill him, they deserved it. Bill knew the human morals would hold him back, except maybe from Stan and Ben and maybe even Mike. He hated all of them. But he knew he would be hypocritical if he killed them or stood by and let Robert do it... he just didn't care anymore. He just wanted his little girl.

"Stop thinking," Robert murmured as he pressed down on that spot again and black danced in Bill's eyes and he couldn't help but push himself back down on the fingers, gasping at the feeling and moaning.

Bill's body convulsed and he trembled in Robert's grip as he came, cumming all over himself and Robert just chuckled, low and gravelly, and it sent shivers down Bill's spine.

"Plenty more where that came from, Billy boy," Robert said, withdrawing his fingers and Bill was hoping he was about to fuck and knot him, but Robert let go of his wrists and turned him on his side, the extra limbs disappearing.

"What're you--" Bill started to ask as he felt Robert lying behind him, a surprisingly warm chest touching Bill's back as the clown wrapped an arm under his side, the hand attached finding its way to Bill's belly as the other took hold of his cock.

Bill sucked in a sharp breath, his cock jumping in Robert's hand as his hips stuttered forward into the touch. He felt the blunt head of Robert's cock against his rim, slowly pushing into him. It wasn't even a tease, rather it seemed like a slow lovemaking between lovers. Bill's eyes watered at the thought and he distracted himself from the almost ridiculous idea by pushing himself back against Robert, impaling himself on the monstrous cock, too impatient. Robert just chuckled at him, sucking and kissing at Bill's neck and ear, sharp teeth leaving behind trails of blood.

Robert didn't fuck him. He slowly thrust in and out and he whispered sweet nothings into Bill's ear about what a good boy he was. About what a good Omega he was. And about what a good _mommy_ he was going to make. The idea still scared Bill and--

Bill's eyes widened when he felt something strange in his belly. It suddenly felt like a very small foot had just kicked him, but from the _inside_. Bill couldn't see it, but he knew Robert was narrowing his eyes. Because the spot that the very small foot had just kicked was right where his hand was at, as though trying to kick the hand.

"I see she'll be a problem. She kicked me," Robert muttered, but Bill could tell he was smirking, his words loving towards the unborn.

Bill stared down at the hand on his belly, which covered the bump almost entirely. It was barely any bigger than an orange, but he knew there was almost a dozen little lights inside of him. But... wasn't... wasn't it too early for things like that? Bill remembered that Georgie used to kick his mom from the inside all the time and he remembered his dad once saying that Bill had been a kicker too... Did that mean Bill's kids were going to be kickers? But... even though they were also Robert's children, _It's_ children, wasn't it still too early?

"She's very impatient," Robert murmured and Bill knew he was smiling a warm, paternal smile.

Bill barely had any time to think about those words before Robert was moving again and he sighed, pressing the back of his head against the clown's chest, moaning softly at the feeling. It was slow and gentle and Bill would daresay loving, and kind of nice even though Bill was impatient too. Just for different reasons. Bill gasped as he felt Robert brushing against his sweet spot, stars and black dancing in his vision as his cock pulsed, the need for the knot still there but not as strong as it had been in the mirror house.

Robert stroked him as he moved in and out, slow and almost methodical. He'd twist his wrist as he went up and down and Bill could only let out a whine and hold onto the wrist. _That_ was teasing. So were the bite marks that were littering his neck. Blood trailed down from the spots, sliding down his shoulder and collarbone as Robert thrust into him.

Bill came, rather lazily, when he felt Robert biting into the back of his neck, sharp teeth piercing the flesh and drawing blood. He gasped and arched into the clown's body, moaning as he felt himself clenching down on the twitching cock and he felt another load entering his body, another light joining its siblings. One of them a sister.

But... there was no knot... Bill whined, long and pitiful, and a burst of warm air tickled the back of his neck as Robert chuckled again, slowly and teasingly pulling out. Bill flushed at the audible, wet sound as Robert's lips brushed his ear, his breath ghosting over the flesh and making the boy shiver.

"You're going to be _begging_ for slow when I'm done with you," Robert growled hungrily and Bill's eyes widened as the next mental image was projected into his mind and as Bill watched it happen in his mind, Robert did it to his body.

He lay Bill onto his back again and kissed him, slow and gentle. Bill sighed into it as he wrapped his arms around the clown's neck, pulling him closer. He knew it was so wrong, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't even blame it on the otherworldly fire taking over his mind. He carded his fingers through Robert's hair, delighting in how it felt so soft. Bill trembled, more because of anticipation rather than fear, when he felt Robert biting his tongue.

His hands were pulled away, lifted above his head and he whimpered as Robert's mouth pulled away from his, but his tongue didn't. The clown's tongue stretched out, long and inhuman, still inside both of their mouths and Bill gasped as his hand was bound above his head, to a bedpost that hadn't been there a moment ago, a long _tongue_ shooting out of the clown's mouth, leaving Bill's, and wrapping itself around his wrist and tying itself to the post, the sound like a whip cracking.

A second long tongue shot out of the clown's mouth, the sound of a cracking whip making Bill jump as it wrapped around Bill's other wrist and tied to it to a second bedpost. Bill's toes curled int the sheets even as both ankles were tied down with two more long tongues to two more posts that hadn't been there before.

Bill felt so vulnerable, tied down like this and Robert chuckled above him, grinning wickedly.

"Feeling tongue-tied?" Robert teased and Bill whimpered, his cock throbbing between his legs.

"Please..." Bill begged, wanting the knot but also wanting what the clown was showing him in his mind.

Something touched his rim and he jerked in his restraints. It wasn't the blunt head of Robert's cock, but the pointed, slimy head of a tentacle that pushed its way into his body and it wasn't so much the width that mattered... as much as the _length_. It pushed in, farther than even the monstrous cock had ever gone and even though it hurt, it felt _so good_.

Bill moaned, tugging on his restraints, feeling the tentacle brushing against his sweet spot. his breath hitched when he felt another tentacle sliding across his hip, almost massaging it as it trailed down his pelvis, curling around his thigh, and he whined as it slowly wrapped around his cock, coiling around it like a snake to its prey.

He gave a pained whimper as he felt it tightening around the base, knowing why at once. Robert wasn't going to let him cum. Or, at least, he was going to make Bill beg for it.

"I--" Bill started to say, ready to start begging, but a third tentacle trailed up his shoulder, curling around his neck and poking at his lips.

Bill couldn't help himself. He opened his mouth, letting his jaw fall slack, and even let his tongue fall out, trying his hardest not to pant as the tentacle slid across his upper lip before sliding into his mouth. It had no flavor and it moved around like it was a living thing, and Bill liked it. He moaned around the thick of it as the tentacle inside his hole moved in and out...

He was _screaming_.

It pushed in and pulled out, but it was so long that it never fully left his body and then it was slamming inside of him. In and out. Back and forth. Hard and fast, rough and painful. Bill squealed around the appendage in his mouth as both of Roberts hands cupped his breasts, pressing his face between them and Bill threw his head back, squirming in the restraints that licked at his arms and calves, teasing him. Robert kneaded them, pushing more milk out of the swollen nipples, his tongue licking it away as he kissed them, teeth teasing Bill's sternum.

Bill's face blazed in embarrassment and arousal as he heard the wet sounds of kissing, the intentional slurping, the slick soaking the tentacle...

Bill's cock throbbed and pulsed in the second tentacle's grip and it _hurt_ and he liked that. He _liked_ it. He liked the pain. Bill wasn't going to be able to cum until Robert let him and Bill knew that Robert loved to tease him and taunt him with the fact that he could. Any time he wanted for as long as he wanted and Bill liked that too.

He gave a garbled, muffled moan as the tentacle twitched inside of his body, warm release filling him up. He trembled, his eyes growing misty, as he felt another light joining its siblings. That made it over a dozen...

Bill jerked up, back arching, as he felt the tentacle slamming into his sweet spot and the second let up on its grip and he grabbed onto the tongues, gripping them hard, his thighs quaking and his toes _curling_ as he screamed around the one in his mouth, cumming violently all over himself and he felt the tentacle shooting another load inside of him... another light...

His chest heaved as he tried to inhale through his nose, the tentacle nearly tickling the back of his throat, his body feeling so spent, the otherworldly heat a low flame under his skin.

The tentacle slid out of his mouth and Bill gasped as the tongues slid off his wrists and ankles, disappearing into the darkness. He whimpered, ashamed and aroused, as the tentacle slid out of his body, the other one unwrapping itself from his cock and they too disappeared as Robert hovered over him, leaving butterfly soft kisses up and down Bill's neck.

Bill felt a strange fluttering in his heart and belly as Robert took hold of his hand, twining his fingers with Bill's and holding him. It felt so nice, being held like this. Robert's other hand went back to the bulge on Bill's belly. Bill knew it was bigger than an orange now, not yet the size of a cantaloupe but it was getting close. Bill blinked, a strange, frightening thought coming into his mind.

Just... _how_ exactly would they be _born_? Bill was a _boy_... Well, with being a Deadlight, even a lesser one, he could shapeshift like Robert now... though he wasn't sure how long it would take before he was able to start shapeshifting... But the very idea of birth itself... the thought terrified him and the very small foot kicked again, suddenly reminding Bill of his nightmares in Robert's Deadlights.

It reminded him of how the hundreds, maybe even thousands, of little spiders scuttling around inside of him and then he had felt a sharp pain in his belly, his insides having felt like they were tightening to the point of ripping themselves apart. But, now it felt like only one little spider, a very impatient one at that... and Bill knew the birth was coming before the end of this cycle. That was why none of the Losers survived so much as another twenty years...

Two questions came into his mind. _How_ would they be born, and exactly _when_?

Robert smiled down at him and Bill was surprised by how it actually comforted him.

"Not much longer now, Billy," Robert murmured, pressing his nose into the side of Bill's neck and inhaling deeply, relishing in the sweet smell.

Bill whimpered, holding onto Robert's hand as though holding on for dear life. He was scared, maybe even terrified and-- the light, the little girl, kicked again.

"She doesn't like you being afraid," Robert murmured softly and Bill blinked.

He knew the little kicker was going to be a girl... but what would she look like? And with how impatient she seemed to be, would she be the firstborn?

Robert's fingers trailed down Bill's belly, rubbing over the bulge.

Bill wondered if this particular one, the one Robert kept saying was his little girl, was the one he kept seeing in his mind. A little baby girl with a head full of ginger hair, just like Pennywise's, but she had Georgie's little nose and even Bill's face... and such blue eyes, just like Pennywise's... but they reminded Bill of Robert too... both faces that It liked to wear...

"She needs a name, Billy," Robert said softly, pressing his lips against the bulge and Bill's heart fluttered strangely at the sight. "They all do."

It felt so wrong to think about what he wanted to name her. It worked for both boys and girls, the nickname, but he felt so bad at the same time. Things were so different now and he was gone... was it so wrong that Bill wanted to name the little girl after her uncle? And it's not like he could ask Robert, because the baby's namesake was gone because of him.

Robert looked up at him, a strangeness in his eyes.

"I don't regret it," Robert said and Bill didn't expect him too.

"Would it be...?" Bill tried to ask, but he knew he was asking the wrong person.

"To some, maybe, but you loved him. You still do, and you always will. You never meant for it to happen. He knows that," Robert said and that made Bill's heart sting.

It was empathy. Strange, possibly deranged and bordering delusional, but it was empathy. Robert knew how it felt to lose a sibling too... a younger one at that... and Bill still blamed Robert for what happened just as much as he blamed himself, but neither one could change it... not even with the ability to shape and reshape reality...

Bill missed him so much... and to protect his little girl, all of his babies, he'd kill the Losers himself, all six of them, if he had to...

"Georgie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I'm hoping Robert wasn't too out of character for a man-eating monster at the end there  
> \- I'm excited for the next chapter and the chapter after that. I think, after this one, there will be either three or four more. I'm not quite sure yet but they'll be something ;) and also, I will be answering, probably in the final chapter, just what may be worse than a Deadlight. I haven't forgotten that question  
> \- Thanks to all those who comment and leave kudos!  
> \- Quick poll: Who do you think is gonna get theirs? And who gets to live another day?


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This chapter... then maybe one, two, possible three more... to finish the movie and kill some people... decisions, decisions...  
> \- There is a book reference, though it's probably more of a reference to The Dark Tower in this as well as a 1990 reference I hadn't even realized I made until I wrote it but I think this one's a good one. Also, there's another Nightmare on Elm Street 3 reference  
> 

Stan was peddling as fast as he could to Neibolt, his heart racing in his chest and his stomach felt hollow. His bones felt like lead and his blood felt cold, almost frozen in his veins, but he knew he had to keep going. It felt like needles were prickling his skin, the guilt consuming him. Stan now knew how Bill had felt when he was looking for Georgie and how he wanted to avenge his death, even if at the time Bill hadn't accepted that Georgie was dead and gone. Just like all the other kids in Derry... just like Dean... and because of Stan, even Bill was gone...

Stan stopped in front of Neibolt, letting Bill's bike fall to the ground. He remembered the old broken down house with its dirty, grime covered windows. Each one was cracked or broken, each one boarded up from the inside and the outside. The walls were even dirtier than the windows, the paint chipping and peeling from the rotting wood. It looked the same as it did 27 years ago. The same monster lurking within its dark depths. Quite possibly a literal pit to Hell...

The sense of foreboding grew worse, but Stan's guilt made him walk forward even though his feet felt like someone had tied cinder blocks to them and turned his legs to lead. His breathing was heavy, his heart pounding as his hands turned clammy. He was at the bottom step, about to walk up the stairs and to the door, about to enter this godforsaken house, when he heard Beverly's voice.

"Stan!"

He turned around, seeing the others running down the sidewalk and toward the house.

"No, no, you guys, no!" Stan yelled as they made their way toward him. "This is all my fault. We're all here again because of me... It's my fault that you're all here..." Stan said, his eyes feeling warm and stingy. "This curse, this fucking thing that's inside you all... It got worse after I left Bill," he said, tears streaming down his cheeks.

There were tears in all of their eyes, he saw even in the darkness, and yet he noticed there was a strangeness to Mike. Like the rest of them, he looked guilty, but at the same time he looked so hopeful. It was like Mike genuinely believed they could use the ritual to kill Pennywise once and for all... but there was something else too it... Stan wasn't sure how he knew it, but he did, and yet he didn't bother to question it, because it was fear and he could understand that.

"Now, I'm gonna go in there, and I don't know what's gonna happen, but I can't ask you to do this," Stan said quietly, sniffling.

Beverly walked forward and picked up a broken piece of the fence.

"Well, we're not asking you, either," she said.

"Bev..." Stan murmured, walking down a step.

"We might not have fought Pennywise back then like we should have, but we can do it as long as we stick together. If we try to fight alone now, we will die," Mike said. "So, we're not going to try it alone. We can beat this. All _seven_ of us."

"Losers stick together," Ben added.

Stan stared at them and they stared right back, until Eddie broke the awkward silence.

"So, does somebody want to say something?" he asked, looking awkward.

"We didn't exactly stick together 27 years ago," Stan said quietly, the guilt stabbing his insides like little, hot knives.

The look of guilt is a mirror on all of their faces, remembering and regretting.

"Let's just go kill this fucking clown," Richie said.

The six of them walked in, each of them shining a flashlight, though Eddie's was on his head, and they saw that it was the same old, dirtied place they remembered. Cobwebs and spiders climbed up and down the walls, though something they all noticed immediately was that there seemed to be more spiders than before and the cobwebs seemed much thicker than 27 years ago. Almost stronger than before.

The reason for the notice, was because what living thing besides Pennywise could stay in such a place? They all knew the only reason there were spiders at all was because Pennywise was taunting them, but with what exactly, they weren't sure. But Mike had a feeling it was because of Bill, and because they didn't fight him 27 years ago, of course Pennywise was stronger.

Broken, stained, and torn furniture sat on the old, corroded floors. Old boards and shredded curtains covered the cracked and dirtied windows, swaying in the light breeze.

Richie approached the stairs that led to the upper floor and saw lava burning down the steps, dripping down them.

"Hmm. Well, I love what he's done with the place," Richie said sarcastically.

"Beep, beep, Richie," Beverly said, not impressed.

Richie just grimaced. It lost its flair after the incident in the library, but he said nothing else.

They split up, staying in two groups of three. Beverly and Ben stayed with Mike while Stan, Eddie, and Richie went into the kitchen. Stan immediately saw a door that had stairs going down.

"Hey, hey, that's the basement, right?" Stan asked, aiming his flashlight at the door.

In the living room, Ben suddenly felt something strange but familiar on his belly. A pain he remembered feeling once 27 years ago. He groaned as it suddenly felt like a blade was running across his skin, like Bowers' had done, but it was cutting deeper into his flesh.

"Ben?" he heard Beverly call to him.

The kitchen door suddenly swung shut on its own, locking Stan, Eddie, and Richie in the kitchen, separating them from the others.

"No, no! Hey, hey! Ben!" Eddie yelled, banging on the door with one hand and rattling the locked knob with the other hand.

"Ben!" Eddie and Stan both yelled, both slamming their hands on the door while Eddie fought with the knob.

In the living room, Beverly and Mike approached Ben, fear in their eyes.

"Ben? What's wrong?" Beverly asked as she and Mike looked at him, seeing nothing physically wrong with him.

Ben kept groaning in pain, too scared to answer her question, fear clenching his heart and his belly amidst the pain. He said nothing, only able to keep staring down at his stomach.

"Ben!" Stan yelled, now ratting the doorknob himself. "Ben!"

Both Stan and Eddie stepped away from the door when they suddenly heard something rattling behind them. It was a small fridge, one they were certain hadn't been there a moment ago. It was covered in stains of blood and dirt and God only knew what else and it was rattling on its own. Rattling something awful.

"Okay, that can't be good, right?" Richie asked, his eyes wide as his heartbeat sped up.

In the living room, Ben kept groaning in pain as Beverly gasped. Ben remembered Bowers carving the H into his belly all those years ago and that's what it felt like now, only it was piercing deeper into his skin. He lifted his shirt, his eyes wide as he tried not to panic, seeing a bloodied H being carved into his belly even though there was nothing in front of him or behind him... that he could see, that is.

"Help! Hey!" Beverly cried, looking towards the kitchen but nobody came.

Ben fell to his knees, whimpering as Stan and Eddie and Richie all stared at the fridge, which was now pounding from the inside, each pound making their hearts beat faster and faster. The door swung open on its own.

"Ugh!" all three of them groaned.

The smell coming from it was awful. Almost like the smell of a rotting corpse, pungent and unforgettable, but there was something else underneath it. Stan and Richie shown their flashlights and saw a tennis shoe they remembered being on Bill's foot that day... attached to a leg wearing the same old jeans that Bill had been wearing, but they couldn't see his face. His body was all twisted and broken, his arms bent at awkward angles behind his head, which slowly lifted itself up, revealing Bill's face, but it wasn't the face of a rotting corpse.

It had the same pale, dead eyes that Pennywise's illusions always had, but it was wearing the white clown makeup with the red lipstick, and it had the same red lines running up from the corners of his lips to just above his eyebrows. Just like Pennywise, rather than what Eddie and Richie had seen in the library and during their encounters. This was new for Stan.

All three stared at it and Richie's mouth hung open.

"It's Bill," Richie said dumbly, his eyes wide and terrified.

In the living room, Ben, Mike, and Beverly watched as some invisible hand with an invisible knife cut a word into Ben's belly, adding to the H.

 _Happy_.

That's what it said... so far.

Ben screamed in pain and Beverly whimpered.

"It can't be real," she said, her eyes wide and afraid.

In the kitchen, Bill's painted face started screaming.

"Oh!" Richie yelled as Bill's head suddenly twitched and the sickening sound of skin ripping and bones snapping hit all of their ears as the head rolled out of the fridge, detaching itself from the neck and they all yelped.

"Oh, God!" Eddie yelped, backing against the door, Stan copying him, as Richie jumped back.

"Shit!" Richie yelped, jumping away from the rolling head.

It stopped rolling across the floor when it hit a large book that hadn't been there before and it was looking up at them. Cold, pale and dead eyes stared up at the three of them as Eddie started hyperventilating.

Stan stared at the head, his eyes wide and feeling ready to pop out of his skull. His heart felt the same way with his chest and his stomach felt ready to disappear. His blood didn't even feel like it was movin ganymore.

The Bill head grinning up at them.

"Miss me, Stanley?" the head asked and Stan whimpered. "How about you, Richie?" the head asked Richie, who gave an unmanly whine. "Eddie bear?" the head asked Eddie, who felt his knees quake.

_Happy Birthday!_

Those were the words being carved into Ben's belly, blood sliding down his lower abdomen and down his pelvis.

Mike looked up and saw the mirror and what was hidden inside of it.

"Beverly!" Mike yelled as Ben kept screaming.

Beverly looked up and saw the mirror, and inside was the three of them and Pennywise was right behind them, holding Bowers' knife and carving the words into Ben's belly. Pennywise started laughing. Ben whimpered and started screaming again as Pennywise lifted the blade to his neck and started to slide it across, the blade stinging as it cut open the flesh. Ben kept screaming even as Beverly was struck with a sudden bout of bravery. Getting up, she grabbed her broken piece of fence and ran to the mirror. She slammed it into the mirror, shattering it completely and the shards flew everywhere.

Ben looked back down at his belly, his eyes impossibly wide and the pain suddenly gone. He put a hand to his throat, which was perfectly fine. The two words were gone, only his H scar remaining.

In the kitchen, the bit of Bill's neck started to crack and the head grinned. It looked at Richie, a knowing and plotting gleam in its dead eyes.

Richie shook his head as large bumps started to form on the head, the skin ripping open as spider-like legs suddenly popped out of the cheeks and the sides of the head, though they also had small hands attached to the ends. Eddie felt like puking when one leg started coming out of Bill's right eye, which was staring up at him now. Six spider-like appendages with little hands attached at the ends form, the little hands now holding Bill's head up and acting like feet to the spider legs.

"You gotta be fucking kidding," Richie whispered, his eyes wide.

Bill's head started laughing at them. Then he lunged, sharp teeth protruding from his gums and he went straight for Richie, snarling.

"Fuck!" Richie yelped, jumping away and screaming as Bill's head snapped at his feet.

"Oh, God damn it, get it away from me. Oh, God!" Eddie yelled, kicking the head away when it got too close and unintentionally kicking it towards Stan, the both of them backing away from the door.

The head snarled at all three of them, now going after Stan.

"Whoa, whoa!" Stan yelped as the head lunged at him and he bat it away with his arm, hitting it with the flashlight and sending it through a hole in the wall that led into the next room.

Stan looked into the hole and saw nothing on the ground or on the walls and he heard the rapid footsteps scampering away and he could hear Pennywise's voice laughing at him. The three of them looked around the room for the head, their hearts running faster than they should be, cold sweat beading down their skin. Richie turned around and saw Eddie stopping in the corner, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Eddie," Richie whispered. "Hey. Are you okay?" he asked, worried for his... friend, as he walked towards him.

"No," Eddie said. "I'm..." he started to say but they both froze when they saw a string of spit dangling between them, right in front of Richie's face.

The string went back up and both Eddie and Richie looked up to see Bill's head above them, the spider limbs hanging onto the rafters. The head grinned at Richie, mouth stretching upwards, sharp teeth sticking out of every inch of the gums, as the eyes widened, a nasty gleam in them.

"Oh, there he is," Richie said, already knowing what was going to happen.

The head lunged and attached itself to his face, the little hands digging into his skin and tugging on his hair and Richie started screaming as he flung himself backwards, Bill's painted face too close for comfort. Eddie started screaming as Richie fell onto the floor, landing on his back.

"Get it off me!" Richie screamed as Stan froze in his spot, too afraid to move.

Multiple, horrible, frightening thoughts ran through Stan's head as his entire body froze up.

"Fuck! Stan help him!" Eddie yelled, also paralyzed by fear.

Stan couldn't. He couldn't help Richie. He was rooted to the spot, feeling so cold. He was frozen with fear, his eyes as wide as headlights. His guilt wasn't even trying to urge him to help Richie.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Eddie yelled over and over.

"One of you pussies help me!" Richie yelled, trying to pull Bill's face away from his.

Eddie ran to him, dropping to his knees as he grabbed onto the head, fingers curling around the hair and a limb, trying not to flinch at the feeling of cold, dead flesh under his fingers and Eddie grunted as he tried to pull the head off Richie.

"Get it off me!" Richie repeated, still screaming.

Ben, Beverly, and Mike heard them.

"Richie!" Ben yelled as they ran down the hall and toward the kitchen.

"Richie!" Mike yelled.

"Richie! Hey!" Beverly yelled, slamming her hand on the door.

Eddie was grunting as Richie kept screaming.

"Get it off me!" Richie screamed.

"I wanna go home," Stan murmured, still frozen in the corner.

"Get the knife!" Eddie yelled, seeing a knife on the floor. "God damn it, Stan, get the knife!"

"Eddie! Get it off me, Eddie! Quick!" Richie yelled before he kept screaming, Bill's sharp teeth snapping at him, the head grinning merrily.

"Stan, get the knife!" Eddie yelled.

"Ahh! Fuck!" Richie yelled as all six long legs wrapped around his head, Bill's teeth ready to chomp down before a knife was slammed into the head... by Ben.

The head made chittering noises, groaning with pain. Ben yanked the knife out and slammed it back into the head, repeating the action over and over as the head chittered and groaned. Blood floated out of the wounds on Bill's head before Ben let go of the knife, leaving it lodged in Bill's head all the way down to the handle. Eddie grunted as he pulled the head off Richie's face.

Stan panted from his spot in the corner, feeling relieved that Richie was safe-- well, safe for the moment, and then he felt like the biggest piece of shit on the planet as Beverly and Mike ran into the kitchen.

"What?" Beverly asked, her eyes wide and afraid as Eddie threw Bill's head into the corner of the room.

It bounced off the floor, hitting the wall and the legs on the right side of the head propped it up, the head now glaring at the six of them.

"Ow," was all it said in Pennywise's voice instead of Bill's before the knife was pushed out of the head, clattering to the floor.

The head crawled away, laughing before it scurried out of the door, disappearing into the darkness.

"is everybody okay?" Beverly asked as she took off her jacket and used it to clean the spit off Richie's face.

"You all right?" Eddie asked Richie, his heart racing and his stomach feeling strange as Richie coughed, his face covered in saliva.

"No," Richie groaned.

Eddie turned around to look at Stan, who was still frozen in the corner. His fear turned to anger.

"He could have fucking died, man," Eddie said, storming up to Stan and grabbing him by the shirt. "You know that, right?" he snapped.

"I can't see," Richie whispered as Beverly tended to him.

"Georgie's dead. Bill's dead. They're all dead! You want Richie dead too?!" Eddie yelled at Stan. "Only one person in this room is allowed to panic and that's me!"

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so... so sorry..." Stan whimpered, crying now. "I was just scared..."

Eddie stared at him. He was mad only because Richie had been in danger... well, they were all in danger, but Richie had nearly died... if Ben hadn't shown up... Eddie didn't want to think about that. He couldn't blame Stan, he'd frozen up too. And Eddie silently wondered that if it had been Bill instead of Stan, that Eddie would've frozen up instead and Bill would be yelling at him right now instead...

"That's what It wants, right?" Eddie asked quietly. "Don't give it to him."

Ben sighed as Beverly thought of something... why had the words said _Happy Birthday?_

"Who's birthday is it?" Beverly asked and they all looked at her, confused.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"Pennywise... he... he was cutting Ben... and he wrote... _Happy Birthday_... on him..." Beverly said quietly.

They all stared at her before shaking their head.s

"It's not... it's not Bill's birthday... is it?" Ben asked quietly, not having gotten the chance to know Bill long enough to find out.

Eddie, Richie, and Stan shook their heads.

"It's not important," Mike said, turning to the basement. "We have to keep moving."

The six of them were about to make their way down the basement, when a squeaking made them stop in their tracks. They turned towards the kitchen door, which was slowly swinging open and saw a little red tricycle peddling itself in the hallway.

"Fuck... fuck..." Eddie whimpered, clinging onto Richie.

Beverly stared at it, her eyes wide and afraid, but she couldn't help but follow it. The others followed her as the tricycle peddled its way to the very end of the hallway, where a single door stood. It was closed, but that wasn't what bothered Beverly.

The door itself was pale pink, with flowers and spiders and turtles painted all over it. The spiders were various shades of pink and blue and Beverly trembled as the door swung open on its own and the tricycle peddled its way in there. She followed it and Ben could only follow her, Eddie, Mike, Richie, and Stan staying by the kitchen door.

Inside reminded Beverly of her own room. A girl's room. A _baby girl's_ room. There was a bassinet made of wood, painted white with pink blankets in it. The room itself was clean and looked nothing like the rest of Neibolt. Butterfly stickers decorated the windows, which were clean and not at all cracked, and there was even a little toy chest with all kinds of toys sticking out of it. Little spiders decorated the walls and ceilings, various shades of pink and there were all kinds of baby toys, rattles and teddy bears, and everything in the room. There was even a plush toy of Pennywise in the bassinet.

"What the fuck?" Ben whispered, his eyes wide as they stared at the room.

"What is it?" Eddie called and Beverly whimpered.

Were they too late? Had Pennywise met the female? Was there really a female? Was she pregnant or was this just another way for Pennywise to taunt her? To taunt her with her father and even the fact that she'd never had kids of her own?

"I think it's Pennywise fucking with us," Ben said, taking Beverly's hand and leading her out of the room, and Beverly would swear it sounded like Beethoven's _Fur Elise_ was playing in the background as the door swung shut the moment they left the room.

"We have to go," Mike said and Beverly looked at him, unsure whether or not she should feel betrayed and lied to.

Did he know by any chance? That there was more than one and that's why he called them? Because if there was more than one creature like Pennywise, and they could mate and breed like any other living thing, that's why none of them lasted another twenty years? Beverly wanted to ask, but her fear made her hold her tongue like it always had.

The six of them made their way into the basement, flashlights shining through the darkness. Eddie didn't even question it when Richie held onto his hand.

"A lot of memories, huh?" Ben asked, looking at the old well from the stairs. "All bad."

Just like 27 years ago, they climbed down the well and made their way into the sewer system. Rats squeaked from the floor and ran in the other direction, scampering off. The smell of sewage wasn't nearly as pungent and awful as the unmistakable reek of death.

"Oh, man," Eddie groaned as Richie helped him down. "Blech... Gray water..."

Richie helped Beverly down next and at once all their socks and shoes were soaked all the way through with gray water, the awful smell burning their noses and it suddenly got worse... stronger somehow but... Beverly's nose scrunched with disgust and she felt ready to start gagging and maybe even puke.

"Do you guys smell that?" she asked, bile rising in the back of her throat.

"Shit and death, yeah," Richie said, though he could smell it too.

"No... it smells like..." her eyes widened.

Beverly knew the smell because one of her friends, before Tom had made her cut ties, had a baby and Beverly had been there. The sewer smelled like _afterbirth_... an unforgettable, horrible smell... Her heart started to pound as questions circled her mind.

"Bev? What's wrong?" Ben asked worriedly.

All five of them looked back at her and she stared right back at Mike, her eyes wide and questioning but she couldn't bring herself to ask him the question. Because if there was another creature, another It, and they'd had children... she didn't think she could handle that... and she knew Stan wouldn't be able to either...

"Nothing,"she lied, figuring it had to be a trick.

It had to be. It was just Pennywise taunting them, that made more sense, right? She'd never had kids and none of the others had either... maybe that was the taunt... For all they knew, Pennywise was somehow the reason they'd never had any children. So maybe this was his way of taunting them with the fact that they would probably never have kids and maybe, just maybe, wouldn't be coming back out of the sewers at all. After that thought, the particular smell went away so Beverly figured, and hoped and maybe even prayed, she was right about it being one of Pennywise's taunts.

They navigated their way through the system, Mike leading the way, seeming to know more than the rest of them where he was going. He led them to the opening where they remembered the pile of body parts and toys being.

"Shit. This is it," Ben said. "This is where it happened."

Mike looked at him before trudging on, the water coming up to his waist and soaking through his clothes. He held the bag with the totem in it above his head, almost as though he was holding it up protectively from the water or holding it like it would protect him.

"No, no, no, ugh," Eddie groaned, turning slightly as an old, dirty teddy bear floated towards him.

Beverly shivered when she heard Pennywise whispering her name.

"Bevvie," the voice whispered and Beverly turned around, seeing nothing.

"Bev, what is it?" Ben asked, turning his head to look back at her.

Eddie, Richi, Stan, and Mike turned around to look too.

"I thought I heard something," Beverly said, turning back towards them.

A bulbous head suddenly popped out of the water and Beverly started screaming as the haggish face of Mrs. Kersh appeared, the hag popping out of the water and looming over her. Mrs. Kersh laughed wickedly as she grabbed Beverly by the face.

"Bev!" Ben yelled, trying to run back to her.

"Daddy's little girl wants to meet you, Bevvy!" the hag cackled in Pennywise's voice as she held Beverly's face in her arms, her bulbous, white eyes gleaming as she grinned evilly. "Time to sink!"

The hag laughed and cackled as Beverly screamed and the hag sunk under the water, taking Beverly with her. Ben dove into the water first, then Richie, then Mike, leaving Stan and Eddie.

"I'm not going in there..." Eddie said before whimpering. "Only one of us can panic," he added fearfully.

Stan just stared at the water, his eyes wide and his heart sinking like the hag. Why weren't they coming back up already? Where were they? How deep was the water, really? What did the hag mean about daddy's little girl?

"Guys," Stan called, his voice echoing and Eddie flinched. "Okay, guys. Come on."

It was taking too long... had Pennywise gotten them? Was Beverly dead? Was Richie? Ben and Mike? Did they all drown? Were he and Eddie the last ones alive? Where were they? Those questions nagged at him and his fear told him they were already dead because Pennywise had gotten them all and drowned all of them. His fear told him that it was just him and Eddie now. _They're gone_ , it said in a taunting voice.

"Hey, guys," Stan said, whimpering. "Guys, come on," he said, crying again. "Please, come on. I don't want to walk out of here alone," he said.

"Gee, thanks," Eddie said, though he was scared too.

Four heads popped out of the water, alive, and both Stan and Eddie sighed with relief.

"You okay?" Ben asked Beverly, holding her up as she coughed out the water she'd swallowed.

"Mike," Richie said suddenly. "Where do we go from here?"

The six of them looked at the wooden door that led deeper into the earth, well past the sewer system, deep into the heart of where the monster lived and lurked. To the place where it had struck the earth, millions of years ago.

"In the depths is where It crept," Mike said. "In the beneath, to find belief," he said. "In the depths is where It crept. In the beneath, to find belief," he repeated, his eyes aglow with a strange, unreadable set of emotions.

They weren't afraid or guilty. Rather, they seemed quite unhinged. Almost deranged. They were the eyes of a madman.

"Is he okay?" Ben asked, a little worried.

"I think at this point, that's a relative question," Richie said.

"What's on the other side?" Beverly asked, holding her arms to herself.

"I don't know," Mike said truthfully, seeming to snap out of it. "No one does," he said.

 _Except maybe Bill_ , Mike thought but he didn't dare say it.

Mike had to hope that Bill would see to reason. Mike thought he must be scared of Pennywise, rightfully so, since he refused to help them back in the library... Mike knew it was strange to think about, because he knew it had been Bill that scared them. Terrorized them with the blood filled balloons unless that was Pennywise's doing, but Bill had laughed at their fear and their guilt almost like Pennywise.

He couldn't blame Bill for hating them and probably even wishing they would all die, but Bill would surely see that the Ritual of Chud would work since the seven of them were alive and here now. It wasn't time to tell the others, not yet. It might be too soon. He figured he could wait until the last minute even if they hated him. If they did, then so be it. This would work. It had to. It just had to.

Without any hesitation, Mike lifted the hatch and the others all backed away. Underneath the door was a deep hole, deeper than the well, and all around was jagged, dirty, and wet rocks. Mike climbed in first, his legs dangling over the side.

"See you all down there," Mike said, jumping in.

They yelled for him until they saw he was climbing down the rocks, safe for the moment.

"Stay together," Ben said before following Mike.

Stan trembled.

"You guys, I can't--" he started to say but Richie cut him off.

"If you say you can't do it after all of this shit, I will punch you in the face," Richie said. "Get in," he added, pointing at the hole.

Stan's lip quivered.

"I can't. You saw what happened up there. I was gonna let you die..." Stan said. "Same as Bill," he added, tears dripping from his chin. "i just... froze up..." he said. "If you let me go down there with you, I'm gonna get us all killed," he said, inhaling deeply.

"Hey, it's okay," Beverly said, looking at him. "It's okay. Hey, here," she said, handing him the broken piece of fence. "Take it," she said. "It kills monsters," she added as he hesitantly took it.

Stan knew she was full of shit. He knew she was just trying to get him to believe in it so that it would distract him. This wasn't some fairy tale or Disney movie. Stan knew that.

"Does it?" Stan couldn't help but ask anyway.

"Yeah," Beverly said, giving him a small smile. "If you believe it does," she added.

"Thanks, Bev," Stan said as Beverly climbed down the hole and he followed her, leaving Richie and Eddie alone.

"Faith, trust, a pinch of monster dust," Richie said, staring at the hole with a vacant expression.

"Is it my turn to panic?" Eddie asked, looking at Richie with a scared expression as he lifted his inhaler, ready to take a gulp but Richie grabbed his wrist.

"Hey, hey, hey. Give me that," Richie said, starting to fight with Eddie for the inhaler. "Give me that."

"Richie," Eddie said, trying to push him off and inhale at the same time.

"Let go you little turd," Richie said, trying to pull the inhaler away.

"Just let me get..." Eddie said, spraying the inhaler and sticking his tongue out, opening his mouth as he inhaled the medicine deeply. "I got it," Eddie said shamefully as he lowered his arm.

"Stop," Richie said, shining his flashlight on Eddie's face. "Listen to me. Stan had a moment, but you grew some balls and saved my face from getting eaten. But who..." Richie winced but continued. "... sort of fought a psychotic killer clown before he was 14?"

Eddie gave him an unimpressed look.

"Stop with the bitch-face and answer the question," Richie said.

"Me," Eddie said, still not very impressed.

"Who stabbed Bowers with a knife he pulled out of his own face?" Richie asked.

"Also me..." Eddie said quietly, still unable to fully believe that part.

When, or if, he ever got back home to Myra, he knew she was going to have an aneurysm when she saw his cheek.

"Who married a woman 10 times his own body mass?" Richie asked, trying not to grin at the pissed look on Eddie's face.

"Me," Eddie said, holding back a clever comeback.

"Yeah," Richie said, feeling his heart and stomach doing strange knots.

it didn't even feel like the coldness of fear from being afraid of Pennywise or the horrible piercing guilt from what they did to Bill. To Richie, it felt like he was 13 years old all over again, puberty fucking with him, and sitting in the hammock with Eddie, who was closer than necessary but Richie hadn't complained then and he wasn't going to complain now.

"You're braver than you think," Richie said, smiling at Eddie, his heart and belly fluttering warmly.

"All right. Thanks, Rich," Eddie said quietly but gratefully.

Richie patted him on the cheek and Eddie flinched.

"Ow," Eddie said.

"Sorry," Richie said awkwardly, realizing he'd patted Eddie on his wound.

He stared at Eddie, who was still eyeing the hole warily and not even noticing. Was now a really shitty time for Richie to tell Eddie how he really felt? How he'd always felt? Richie had forgotten it, for 27 long years, ever since he left Derry. But now he remembered and times had changed. Though, it didn't help that Eddie was married to a woman who could very well be haunted by the ghost of Eddie's mother. Richie kept staring at him, Eddie not even noticing.

He knew it was a bad time to tell him, but if they died, then Richie would lose his chance, wouldn't he? Or, and this was awful, if Eddie died and Richie didn't, he'd live with the regret of never telling him... again... but if Richie died and Eddie didn't, then Eddie would live without ever knowing. Richie wondered if that was for the best.

Eddie was always a stickler about health and medical stuff because of his mother, and back in the 80s, Richie knew Mrs. Kaspbrak would've been against the idea because of the AIDs epidemic and he didn't think Mrs. Kaspbrak ever really liked him that much. Richie wondered if telling Eddie would keep him going long enough to kill this fucking clown... but then again, it might piss him off... and maybe even scare him away entirely...

"When we get out of here, and I say _when_ , I've got something to show you," Richie said, remembering the kissing bridge.

Eddie stared curiously at him.

"Okay..." Eddie said quietly as Richie made his way down the hole.

Richie completely missed the disappointed look on Eddie's face as the two of them followed the others down.

"You guys good?" Mike called up, his voice echoing.

"Yeah," Ben called back.

They found themselves in a dark chamber, surrounded entirely by rocks. The only way through was a small opening that barely looked like they could squeeze through it.

"Can you make it through?" Ben asked Mike.

"It's the only way. This way," Mike said, already crawling through the opening on his belly. "It's in here!"

Stan grunted, gritting his teeth pain, as he squeezed through, the rocks feeling like they were crushing his organs into his spine.

"Through here," Stan called. "It's tight but we can get through."

The six of them made through way through and made their way up the dark chamber where there was a great rock formation, all jagged and pointed upwards, taller than all of them combined. It indeed looked like a meteor had struck the spot and sent the earth upwards, but the earth had frozen in place, forever trapped in an upwards position. Large holes were carved into the jagged rocks, almost looking like the holes to an underground hive.

Eddie tried not to flinch and trip over a pile of bones and he tried not to vomit at the sight of a human skull. Richie looked upwards, his jaw slack and his mouth wide, as he saw a seemingly never ending tunnel leading upwards.

"So, all this has been under Derry, like, forever?" Eddie asked.

"Not forever," Mike said. "Just a few million years."

"Mike..." Beverly said quietly, remembering her encounter with Pennywise, the bedroom for a baby girl, and the awful smell.

Beverly wanted so badly to ask him if he knew, by any chance, if there really was a possibility that more than one creature like Pennywise, a female, could possibly exist. Unless Pennywise was the female and they just never knew that, and there was another who was a male. Beverly wanted to ask so badly but she was too scared and she didn't want to scare the others more than they already were. Stan especially.

Mike looked back at her, his eyes questioning.

"Nothing," she lied. "Just... you're sure it'll work? The ritual?" she asked and Mike nodded.

"I'm sure," Mike said, sounding like it.

He climbed into the space where Pennywise had hit the earth millions of years ago. Mike unzipped his bag and took out the totem, placing it onto the middle of the floor, right where Pennywise had landed.

"It can only be attacked in its true form," Mike said. "The ritual will show us that."

"And what is Its' true form?" Ben asked nervously.

"I hope it's a puppy," Richie said. "Like a Pomeranian or..." he noticed they were all glaring at him. "I'll shut up."

"It's light," Mike said. "A light that must be snuffed out by darkness."

Mike took lighter fluid from his bag and poured it into the totem, lighting a single match and tossing it in. Flames rose from within the totem, not even burning it and they crackled just above the totem's opening.

"Your artifacts," Mike said. "Place them in the fire. The past must burn with the present."

All of them reached into their pockets to pull out their artifacts.

Stan pulled out the old paper boat. It was dirty with blood and grime, the words SS Georgie starting to fade away.

"I know this is the boat that Bill made for Georgie the day he went missing," Stan said, staring at it.

He threw it into the fire, watching it crinkle and burn, turning black and burning into embers. He pulled out the shower cap.

"And... I bought this for Bill without even thinking about the fact that I was buying seven... not six," he added, throwing it in the flames.

"It's my inhaler," Eddie said, looking at it before taking one last deep inhale.

"Come on, dude," Richie said, unimpressed.

Eddie gave his inhaler one last look before throwing it into the fire.

Beverly looked at her dirtied postcard.

"Something that I wish I had held on to," she said, still unsure of who wrote it, and she threw it into the flames.

Ben pulled out the page from his yearbook.

"This is a page from my yearbook," he said. "That only one person signed."

Beverly looked at the page, and then Ben. She remembered that. She had taken his book out of his bag and had seen that the pages were empty, signing her name with two little hearts.

"I probably should have forgotten it, but I couldn't, because I kept it in my wallet for 27 years," Ben said quietly.

He sighed before throwing it into the fire, sadly watching it crinkle and burn.

Richie pulled out the arcade token.

"This is a token from the Capitol Theater," Richie said, showing it to them.

"You brought an actual token?" Eddie asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah. That's what we were supposed to do, asshole," Richie said quickly.

"Do you have any idea how long that's gonna take to burn?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, but so is your inhaler, dude," Richie said.

"Guys, come on," Ben said.

"All the toxic fumes and the plastic and shit, so..." Richie said awkwardly.

Mike held up his token. An old rock from the Barrens that even 27 years later, still had Henry Bowers' blood on it.

"Look closely, Bev," Mike said. "You see it?" he asked as she stared at it, her eyes widening as she remembered throwing it at Bowers. "That's where you hit Bowers."

Beverly gave a small laugh. She had nailed him right in the head with it and Stan had even complimented her on the nice throw. She remembered that.

"The rock fight," Beverly said quietly.

"The days these bonds were forged," Mike said.

"That's not gonna burn either," Eddie whispered.

Mike threw the rock into the fire and watched as the flames shot up.

"Okay. Grab hands," Mike said. "Come on."

They all grabbed hands, Ben grabbing onto Beverly's and Eddie grabbing onto Richie's.

"The Ritual of Chud. It's a battle of wills," Mike said. "The first step was our reunion. The second was the gathering of tokens. This is the final step," Mike said, his heart feeling strange as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

The flames suddenly died and they all looked down at the totem.

"What the--" Richie started to ask but Stan interrupted him.

"Fuck is that?" Stan asked when all of the sudden, the ceiling was opening up and they could see three bright lights floating down towards them.

The opening in the ceiling, illuminated by the lights, looked like the gaping mouth of a monster, the sharp rocks inside looking like jagged teeth ready to bite down.

"Don't look at them!" Mike yelled.

"Are those the Deadlights?!" Eddie asked.

"Don't look at it!" Mike yelled.

"Turn light into dark. Turn light into dark. Say it!" Mike yelled, closing his eyes.

"Say what?" Eddie asked, terrified.

"Say it!" Mike yelled.

"Turn light into dark," the five of them started to say, none of them in sync.

Mike chanted the words in the native language of the Shokopiwah while the others chanted in English, the three bright lights swirling above their heads. The lights floated downward, pulsing like heartbeats and flashing as they came closer and closer to the totem. However, a fourth, smaller light floated around the three larger lights, as though dancing around them, though none of them, not even Mike or Beverly, noticed.

"Turn light into dark. Mike, what's happening, man?" Richie asked, scrunching his eyes shut as tightly as possible.

"Keep chanting!" Mike yelled, believing the ritual would work.

 _Bill_ , Mike called out to Bill, hoping and praying Bill could hear him and would listen. _We can do this... We can do this..._ he chanted in his head.

As the six of them kept chanting, their hearts racing with their fear and their spines turning rigid and cold, the four lights floated downwards into the totem. At once, Mike grabbed the lid to the totem, breaking the hold they had on each other's hands as Eddie kept chanting.

"Turn light into dark! Turn light into dark! Is it working? Did we do it?" Eddie asked.

Mike's eyes widened, hope flickering in them as the box creaked. Suddenly, something red shown underneath the lid, starting to push it up. They could hear rubber squeaking.

"What is this? Is this part of it?" Beverly asked, her eyes widening with terror.

"Mike is this supposed to be happening?" Richie asked, the red of the balloon reflecting on his glasses.

"What? No, no, no," Eddie said, starting to panic again.

"Keep chanting!" Mike yelled, the hope dying and it was quickly replaced with fear.

"Turn light into dark," Eddie started again but he stopped just as quickly as the balloon kept swelling, growing larger and larger.

Stan backed away, terrified, as a large, bright red balloon started to push the lid off the totem, shoving Mike backwards and Richie yelped as a giant red balloon kept inflating in front of them. The balloon grew larger and larger until it pushed all of them out of the space where It had landed, swelling and inflating until it was so large that it pressed against all of the points of the rocks.

It popped.

The sound popped their eardrums instantly, the sound like a gunshot right next to all of their ears. The only sound they could hear was ringing worthy of a splitting headache and they could only faintly hear the muffled shouting.

"Bev, Bev,"Ben whispered, crawling towards her as their hearing very slowly came back, their heads pounding as their ears rang.

"Richie," Beverly whimpered.

"Are you okay?" Richie asked.

"I can't hear shit," Ben said, wincing in pain.

"He's okay," Richie said.

"Are you all right?" Stan asked, still terrified.

"Yeah. No, no, no," Ben said, holding the side of his head.

"Wait, where's Mike?" Eddie asked.

"Mike!" Ben yelled before wincing again, his ears throbbing.

"I'm here!" Mike called.

"Hey, guys," Richie called.

"Did we do it? Did we do it? Yeah? Did we do it?" Eddie asked, still scared but somewhat hopeful.

"We put the tokens in the thing. That's good, right?" Richie asked.

"We did it, right?" Eddie asked worriedly.

Beverly rose her flashlight and saw Pennywise's face peeking at them from between two of the rocks. They all exclaimed in fear.

"Shit! Shit!" Richie yelled, grabbing onto Eddie's arm.

"Oh, did it work, Mikey? Did it work?" Pennywise asked tauntingly before laughing at them.

Tell them why your silly little ritual didn't work," Pennywise said, grinning delightedly as he moved from side to side behind the rocks. "Tell them it's all just a.... What's the word, Eds?" Pennywise asked Eddie, peeking at him from a hole in the rock. "Gazebo?"

Eddie remembered Greta Keene tell him 27 years ago that his medication was a load of bullshit. She'd said placebos, which meant fake. They didn't actually do anything... he'd just accidentally said gazebo to his mom...

"Mike, what's he talking about?" Eddie asked, his eyes wide and terrified.

"M-M-Mikey?" Stan asked, not believing what he was hearing.

"Oh, Mikey, you never showed them the fourth side, did you?" Pennywise asked, grinning at them before laughing again.

Richie remembered seeing one of the sides on the totem before Mike had taken it away from him... it had been cut...

"You cut off the fourth side," Richie said, his eyes widening with realization and betrayal.

"Didn't want them to know what actually happened to the poor Shokopiwah?" Pennywise asked. "Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum."

Mike remembered seeing in his visions how the Shokopiwah had perished when trying to fight It. Richie was right. He had cut the fourth side off. He had tried to deny that's what had actually happened. He'd just wanted something, anything, to believe in.

"Fuck, Mikey. You lied to us again!?" Stan yelled angrily.

"No, but they didn't believe!" Mike stammered. "They didn't believe they could kill It! That's why it didn't work back then!"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Mike!?" Richie yelled.

Mike whimpered.

"We... there's seven of us! We can kill him!" Mike said, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

Pennywise cackled as the five of them stared at Mike, all of them angry and terrified, betrayed and guilty.

"There's _six_! Bill is fucking dead!" Stan yelled and Pennywise giggled to himself.

"Fuck!" Richie yelled.

"Fuck you, Mikey!" Stan yelled.

"I need something, anything, for us to remember," Mike said. "Anything for us to believe!"

"God damn it!" Stan shouted.

"Fuck!" Richie cried out.

Pennywise kept laughing. The three large lights burst from the totem, each glowing blue, swirling amidst black smoke and the loud beats with screaming underneath made the six of them yell with pain. Around the three great blue lights swirled the fourth, white light, dancing around and fluttering around.

"The Deadlights! Don't look at them!" Beverly yelled as Pennywise's head peeked over the rocks.

"Oh, Bevvie," Pennywise giggled and Beverly felt her stomach drop. "Don't act like Mikey is n't the only one hiding secrets," he giggled.

"Bev?" Ben asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Beverly whimpered.

"Tell them _why_ they don't last another twenty years," Pennywise said and she felt tears streaming down her cheeks.

"There's a female," Beverly said, whimpering. "They're going to have... babies..."

"What the fuck!" Eddie yelled.

"Are you fucking serious?!" Richie yelled while Stan froze up.

Pennywise grew in size, his head and and body growling so large and he slowly crawled out of the space, climbing over the rocks like a spider.

"For 27 years, _we_ dreamt of you," Pennywise said, laughing. " _We_ craved you," he said and they saw that the upper half of his body was that of Pennywise the Dancing Clown, but his lower half was a spider-like body, something seen in a Tim Burton film, his long arms dangling in front of him. "Oh, _we've_ missed you!" Pennywise cackled.

They stared at the clown, each one holding a look of terror and betrayal. Even Mike.

"What do you mean 'we'?" Richie asked, not wanting to have to be the one to ask the question but it seemed that nobody else was going to.

They had never encountered the female before... the one Beverly mentioned... Mike's eyes widened guiltily as the other five looked back at him expectantly.

Pennywise started laughing again but it wasn't coming from the giant, spider-like creature in front of them. Eddie yelped when he saw another man, dressed just like Pennywise and his face painted the same, but he didn't have the same bulbous, cracked head and the spiked up ginger hair. The man had dark brown hair, the same ominous yellow eyes, and a rather handsome face. Beverly recognized him as a younger version of the man she'd seen in the photograph with Bill.

"Fuck!" Beverly cried.

There _was_ two of them. Pennywise... was the female and this one--

"Nope, nope, Bevvie," the man said, grinning wickedly.

Mike didn't know what this was about, other than Bill... and he was scared. More scared than he'd ever been, even when he was a kid and he first saw Pennywise portraying his burning parents and then hanging in the meat locker and when he was chewing Ed Corcoran's arm in the Barrens when Bowers, Higgins, and Criss had cornered him. The day he'd met his friends.

"Oh, there were more like me, Beverly. Big, strong Alphas and strong, fertile Omegas. There _was_ a female," the man, Robert, chuckled darkly.

"Fuck!" Richie yelled again, the idea of more than one creature like Pennywise, a female capable of having _more_ creatures, _fucking terrifying_.

"Oh, lots and lots of us," Robert grinned darkly. "I loved killing all of you in their worlds. Fat Boy especially," Robert giggled at the terrified and confused faces they gave him. "So, I needed to make more, didn't I? It gets lonely in here. Oh, I didn't even know it was Billy boy who killed her when we made our little bargain," Robert cackled.

"What the fuck is he talking about, Mike?!" Richie yelled as Eddie cried out, trying his hardest not to panic.

"I don't fucking know!" Mike yelled, his words truthful.

"All kinds of worlds... so many of us... the Eaters of Worlds... but then there was just little ol' me, little ol' Robert," Robert said, grinning. "So, when I couldn't _find_ a female to make more, I made one myself," he cackled at the horrified looks on their faces.

Mike's heart dropped into his stomach, his mouth falling open. He didn't know how Robert had made another female... but _that_ was why Bill wasn't going to help him. Why he didn't want to... this creature... Robert... had made him into a monster... he understood... turned Bill into a Deadlight... but how did--

"Oh, we can shapeshift, you dummies know that. Alphas like me can have bodies of what you little humans call females while we impregnate the Omegas, who could even have the bodies of what you call males," Robert grinned at the stricken looks on their faces. "But here was my dilemma. I had a sweet little Billy all to myself--" Stan flinched, misinterpreting the clown's words. "-- but he wasn't scared of me. Oh, he was always the strongest out of all you Losers! So, Richie--" Richie flinched, backing away. "-- what is every teenage boy's worst fear?"

Robert grinned as Richie's own heart dropped. He had been afraid of people finding out he was playing for the same team... for Eddie... and if there was no female... only Bill... The color drained from Richie's face and he felt sick. What they had done to Bill... was infinitely worse than before... Stan wouldn't come back... none of them might...

"Oh, he didn't like it at first but he was just so much fun to play with so I just had to keep him!" Robert said, his grin stretching ear to ear. "And then, during my long rest, I found out what you Losers did to the female, my twin--" he looked at Stan, grinning. "-- Oh, I must thank you for your cowardice, Stanley. If not for you, Richie would've picked up that bat and I would be dead just like my twin!" Robert cackled and Mike didn't even have the heart to say that he was right and Pennywise could die. "Oh, and don't worry, Stan. _I_ won't kill you," Robert said, a dark meaning in his words.

Robert continued and slowly, one by one, all six of them realized exactly what he was saying and the guilt was infinitely worse than thinking they had left Bill to die. They'd left him to suffer a fate much, much worse than death.

"Oh, but Billy of female's world killed her. And when we Deadlights die, we don't become the grass. We become light again, floating in the Deadlights until something happens. And since Gan was doing nothing, I had to..."

Robert emerged from behind the spikes, standing in front of the spider-like Pennywise. He was just as tall as Eddie remembered Pennywise being, and just as dangerous and terrifying.

"Oh, she hasn't come out yet, Bevvie," Robert said, grinning merrily at the horrified looks on their faces. "But she will. And so will all of her brothers and sisters," Robert said. "I had to put the female's light into Billy to make him just like her, might've been eaten from the inside had I not... _Well, aren't you going to say hello_?"

He pointed behind him with his thumb and they all jumped back, yelping with a terrified sort of guilt, when they saw, sitting on Pennywise's shoulder, Bill Denbrough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The next chapter... somebody's gonna die... not sure who yet but somebody, definitely. Oh, how close the ending is and I do hope it doesn't suck like Bill's endings lol  
> \- Not sure when the next chapter will be up but seeing how I have a problem with waiting, probably soon lol  
> \- Comments, kudos, constructive criticism, always appreciated!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- And here is 18  
> \- Thing about Part Two that would've been funnier, I think, is if Eddie and Richie bothered with regular Scary, so I made my own scene!  
> \- Also, a lot of dark shit in this chapter, just a heads up

Bill, five of them noticed, was dressed as he had been in the library and during all of their encounters, except Stan's who was seeing this for the first time.

A bright yellow, baggy jumpsuit, three orange pompoms on the front, a black, sleeveless vest with pink lining, with the sleeves of the suit being puffy and striped, teal and purple, and three ruffles around his neck, the top and the bottom pure white while the middle ruffle was striped, teal and purple like the sleeves. His face was painted white and he was wearing red lipstick and had a red ball on his nose. Even now, he was still only just a boy.

But what Beverly noticed first, noticing before the others, was the belly of the jumpsuit was sticking out, as though Bill had a balloon under it. She whimpered, no words able to truly describe the horror she felt and the guilt she deserved to feel.

"He's not real..." Eddie murmured, trying to deny what he was seeing as the giant Pennywise carefully lifted Bill from his shoulder with both hands, almost cradling him, as he set Bill down next to the still grinning Robert, who wrapped his arms around the teen, wrapping them around his middle and pulling him close. "He's not real... he's just... he's just an illusion..." Eddie said quietly. "Right?"

The six of them stared at Bill, the guilt eating away at their insides like Pennywise's teeth, the sick realization making their skin crawl. Beverly's entire body trembled, her eyes still on Bill's belly as tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping from her chin. There was nothing, nothing at all, that would ever make this right. Not even killing the clown. She felt very sick and ready to puke and maybe even faint.

"He's not... an illusion..." Mike said quietly. "It's the real Bill... he's alive..."

Richie turned to him, anger in his eyes.

"And you knew?" Richie yelled. "You knew this whole fucking time and kept that from us?!"

"He's known since Billy had a bite of the basher," Robert said, giggling and Stan blinked, realization dawning on him.

The bite mark in the basher's throat had been shaped like a human mouth. Not shaped like some sort of animal or one of Pennywise's many monstrous forms. Pennywise hadn't bothered to waste time and energy taking on or keeping a human form, because he wasn't the one who had killed that basher.

"That's what you meant..." Stan murmured softly, his eyes wide with a horrified disbelief. "When you said he couldn't hold Pennywise back for long..." he felt a lump swelling in his throat. "You were talking about Bill..."

Mike nodded guiltily, closing his eyes as he let his own tears fall. This was all of their faults, he knew. They all knew. The seven of them could have fought Pennywise all those years ago and things would be so much different than what they were now. This very day, Mike knew, would be the day Pennywise would've died if not for their cowardice.

He didn't fully understand what Robert had meant when he said 'female's _world_ ' and Eaters of _Worlds_ , but he figured that it made sense. He supposed the Shokopiwah just hadn't known the full extent of this monster's origins. Pennywise, the Deadlights, were not of this earth or any earth. Pennywise, or Robert, wasn't human and the visions showed that he was not from this very planet. He was from another world. From the Deadlights... but it made things so much worse to think that the death of this creature would've resulted in the extinction of all Deadlights. And if they hadn't been such cowards, then Bill wouldn't be pr--

Mike stopped that thought. He couldn't fathom the thought. It made him sick to think about. Death was awful as it was, but what Pennywise had done to Bill, because of them... Mike felt bugs crawling under his skin, angry little hornets stinging at his insides, his guilt and his terror one in the same.

All six of them felt very sick and very faint, bile rising in the backs of their throats. They weren't even intentionally thinking the same exact thoughts at the same exact time, but it was the simple truth. Stan felt the worst, Ben coming in second, and Beverly couldn't even begin to describe the horror she felt. They all knew this was infinitely worse than leaving Bill to die, which would've been merciful compared to... _this_.

Bill's kept his head down, choosing to look at his feet instead of the Losers, tears in his own eyes. He didn't want to be here, but at the same time, he was enjoying hearing their thoughts and smelling the stink of their fear and the reek of their guilt. They deserved this and what audacity they had to feel guilty for what they had done. Not when they did it, but 27 years after the fact.

Mike sniffled, opening his eyes and he cautiously approached Bill, fully aware of of the dirty looks he was receiving from both the spider-like Pennywise and the Robert character. He had to speak these words, even if he hated himself more and more as the seconds passed and with each step he took. He had to at least try.

"Bill..." Mike said hesitantly. "He said it himself, they _can_ die... you, you don't have to be afraid of him..." he said, an idea coming to his mind even though he knew it was sick and unfair of him to ask for. " _You_ can fight him," he said and Bill looked up at him, twin streams of tears trailing down his white cheeks.

Bill's eyes were paler than Mike remembered them being, but they were pale blue again instead of pale red, like when Mike had first tried to reach out to him in the library. He wasn't angry... at the moment.

"I know I don't deserve to ask this... none of us do... and you can hate us all you want and even kill us yourself after... we'd deserve it... but you have done _good_ ," Mike said, names coming to his mind. "You saved Adrian Mellon and Don Hagarty. Lisa Albrecht and Victoria Fuller... and if he's the last male--" Mike started but Bill cut him off.

"I've killed people, Mike," Bill said, his voice broken and the weight of their guilt was crushing, each word piercing their hearts like knives. "That basher... Victoria's mom..." Bill murmured and Mike blinked, his eyes widening. Bill gave a watery, humorless smile. "So gruesome, no body... you thought it was him and I wasn't even like this when I did that..." Bill said quietly, tears dripping from his chin.

The thing the six of them noticed was that Bill wasn't even stuttering on his words, fighting to speak, and every time he did talk, they flinched. It was his voice, not Pennywise's and it wasn't filled with some sort of looming threat. They knew it wasn't just another one of Pennywise's illusions. They just knew.

"That little boy Richie yelled at..." Bill said and Richie's eyes grew impossibly wide. "That face... that was me... not... not him..." Bill said and Stan's heart clenched painfully, horrified and guilty. "And you'd just kill me too..." Bill added quietly and they didn't miss how Robert's arms tightened around his middle, almost _protectively_.

"No, no, no, no, Bill, we wouldn't..." Ben said, stepping forward even though his legs felt like jelly. "We... we don't... we don't deserve to call you our friend... we lost that 27 years ago... but if he's really the last one, we can beat him... we would never--" Ben cut himself off, unable to finish that hypocritical sentence.

Bill frowned.

"You would never kill me?" Bill asked. "Is that what you were going to say?" he asked, his eyes flickering between blue and red. "27 years ago, just because you wouldn't have been the one to end my life, doesn't mean you wouldn't have killed me just the same. It still fucking counts, Ben," he spat, one eye turning pale red and Ben flinched.

"And how ironic that Egg Boy would be the one to say he wouldn't kill you," Robert added darkly, the two of them clearly knowing something the Losers didn't.

"We can beat him, Bill... we can kill him. There's seven of us," Mike said and Bill stared at him.

Bill knew that they could, especially if he helped them, but what was the point? He just didn't want to, so why bother? And who the hell were they to come in after all those years and say that they wouldn't leave him this time? That they wouldn't kill him? After what they did to him?

"You didn't fight him 27 years ago," Bill said and they all flinched again, each face guiltier than the last, Stan's the worst. "I _wanted_ to _die_..." Bill murmured, his eye going back to pale blue, both of them sad now. "Do you get that?" Bill asked, his voice cracking. "He... he made sure I didn't die and... and now... I don't get to be with Georgie if I do..." he said and his eyes slowly hardened, the pale blue bleeding back into pale red. "Why should I help you when you didn't help me? You didn't care about me 27 years ago, so you've got a lot of fucking balls come in here now, offering to help me and even if you didn't kill me, then I'm left alone with over a dozen baby Deadlights!" Bill yelled and Beverly whimpered. "Do you fucking get that?! I'm not even _human_ anymore because of you assholes! I'm fucking _pregnant_!"

Bill's voice echoed in the large chamber, echoing over and over and boring into their memories and if they all lived, they knew they would never forget this moment. They stared at him with the same mixed expressions of regret and horror.

"You'll deserve what you get..." Bill said quietly, red fading back to blue. "I didn't... I didn't want to get any of you killed... like Georgie... but do you have any idea how it felt? You left me..." Bill said, choking on his words because of his upset, not because of his stutter. "Was it worth it?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Were you all happy?" he asked, tears streaming down his cheeks, his own heart hurting. "Did you even tell my parents?" he added before growing angry again. "They're dead too... because of all of you... you killed my parents and they're in Hell because of how they died! Because of you! I couldn't even get that!" Bill screamed, the red of his eyes slowly turning a darker shade with each word.

Beverly and Eddie both whimpered as Stan started to cry.

"I don't get to go to Heaven or Hell! I don't get to be with Georgie! I get to float in nothing if I die! You don't get to be sorry! You don't get to come in here 27 years later and regret what you did! Fuck you!" Bill screamed, his eyes a dark, bloody red. "FUCK YOU!"

The gigantic spider-like Pennywise grinned evilly as it darted towards them, the Losers backing away except for Mike.

"Mike! Move back!" Ben yelled as they all started to run.

"Mikey! You gotta move, Mikey!" Stan yelled.

Mike looked between the giant Pennywise coming towards him and Bill, seeing the smug grin on Robert's face.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, guys..." Mike said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Bill..."

"Mike, come on, man!" Eddie urged.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Mike said, closing his eyes and waiting for the giant Pennywise to strike him and end his life.

It was what he deserved.

"Time to float!" Pennywise yelled as he reeled his long arm back, his hand morphing into multiple smaller hands and fingers before a sharp stinger protruding from his wrist instead of a hand.

The five of them just gasped, Robert watching with a pleasant smile on his face while Bill looked back down at his feet, Mike standing there, waiting for it to happen.

"Oh, shit!" Stan yelled, his heart hammering in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

"I'm sorry..." Mike murmured, waiting for death to come for him but then he felt something slamming into him, arms wrapping around his middle and shoving him out of the way just as Pennywise's stinger struck the spot where Mike had been standing.

"Mike, come on, get up! Get him up!" Eddie yelled and Mike realized that Stan had jumped in the way, throwing himself into Mike and saving his life.

"Go, go!" Stan yelled.

"Run!" Eddie screamed as Pennywise chased after them.

"Oh, shit!" Richie screamed.

"Run! Go, go, go!" Stan yelled as Pennywise followed them, the Deadlights flickering on and off, dark and light.

Pennywise snarled viciously as he waved his long arm around, smashing it into the jagged rocks and sending debris flying all over, smacking it into the Losers. Pennywise's arm then struck the earth between them, separating them from each other.

"Go, go, go!" Stan yelled, still running.

Mike dropped to the ground and slid across the earth, hiding under a jagged rock as the others ran in different directions. Eddie and Richie together, Ben and Beverly another way, and Stan by himself. Mike knew that this was what they deserved, but there just had to be some way to convince Bill to fight Pennywise.

 _God_ , Mike thought, feeling ready to puke.

He had known something must've been wrong for Pennywise to not kill Bill, but he never expected _this_. Bill being alive was a good thing, but him still being a boy and hating them was awful. Mike understood Bill's anger and it was infinitely worse to realize that because of them, Bill was a creature like Pennywise, a Deadlight, and it was a sickening thought to know that _Bill Denbrough_ was _pregnant_ and with _Pennywise's_ babies...

 _God_ , Mike thought, goosebumps running down his arms and he felt nauseous.

"God's not here today, Mikey!" the voice of Pennywise, or Robert, Mike wasn't sure, yelled and the clown started laughing.

The spider-like Pennywise chased Stan into an opening and Stan found himself falling into the water, the Pennywise grinning knowingly as Stan swam deeper and deeper into the watery depths, closer and closer to what he deserved.

"Go, go, go!" Ben yelled, grabbing onto Beverly's hand as they ran down a dark hall.

They stopped when they nearly ran into the wall, seeing two different directions.

"Where'd he go?" Beverly asked, turning around and aiming her flashlight down the hall and seeing that the giant Pennywise had disappeared.

"Don't worry. We'll find a way out," Ben said, though he wasn't sure if he really believed his own words.

Beverly lowered her eyes before turning back towards him.

"We did this," she murmured regretfully.

"What? Hey, no, no, no, no, we didn't mean for this to happen--" Ben started but Beverly shook her head.

"That's a shitty excuse, Ben. You know that," Beverly said and Ben sighed, knowing she was right.

In the water, Stan was wading through, his lungs burning as he fought to swim towards the only hole he could see. His head burst out of the water as he gasped for breath, coughing out the water he'd swallowed. He wildly looked around, realizing he was in what looked like a flooded basement... and then he remembered who's basement this was.

In the chamber, Eddie and Richie stared at the giant Pennywise, which was still staring at the hole that Stan had fallen into. They could see Bill and Robert standing off to the side, the clown clearly murmuring something in Bill's ear as the giant Pennywise turned its head towards Eddie and Richie.

"Oh, shit!" Eddie whimpered.

Richie yelped, "Can he see us?" he asked, squinting his eyes slightly.

At once, the giant Pennywise turned its entire body, now looking right at them and clearly ready to lunge and strike.

Both started screaming.

"Oh my God!" Richie yelled.

"Shit!" Eddie screamed.

"Oh, shit!" Richie yelled, the both of them running down a dark tunnel as the giant Pennywise glared down at them, reaching his long arm in and quickly stretching it out to chase the two of them. "Holy shit! Holy shit! Run!"

"Oh, shit!" Eddie yelped, his heart pounding in his chest, feeling ready to burst out.

Both gasped and came to a stop when they saw, appearing out of nowhere, three doors with words written in blood on them, only Richie remembering this moment.

"Shit. You gotta be fucking kidding me," Richie whimpered.

They both turned around to see Pennywise's hand morph into a monster's mouth, dozens of sharp teeth trying to snap at them but it couldn't quite reach. They turned back towards the doors, seeing _Very Scary_ written on the door to the right, _Scary_ written on the door in the middle, and _Not Scary At All_ written on the door to the left.

"We're trapped," Ben said as Beverly turned around.

"Where do we go?" she asked.

All of a sudden, they could both hear rumbling beneath their feet that was growing steadily louder and louder. The soil was shaking. Both started screaming as Ben suddenly went flying backwards, as though a large, invisible hand was yanking him away. The same happened to Beverly, her body flying through the air as she kept screaming, sending them in different directions.

Beverly saw a bright white light before she was crying out in pain, her back hitting a wall and she fell to her hands and knees, quickly realizing she was in a dirty bathroom stall with all kinds of nasty words and dirty images drawn on the walls and she recognized the stall instantly. This was the stall she would always try to hide, and fail, from Greta and the other girls, where she would always smoke and Greta would say that she could smell her. The stall door swung itself shut and locked itself.

Ben was still screaming, flying through the air before crying out in pain, landing on his back on hard earth and he realized he was in the clubhouse. Even though he had claustrophobia, the idea of an underground clubhouse and building it himself had been appealing and cool and he knew the others had liked it too. It made for a better hiding place too.

Beverly yelped as she climbed onto the toilet, hands pressed against each wall while Ben looked around the clubhouse, his eyes wide and expectant, just waiting for some sort of monster to jump out of the shadows and attack him.

"God damn it!" Eddie yelped, not knowing which door to pick.

"Uh..." Richie said, trying to remember which door was the right one and which one was the stuff of nightmares.

"All right. 'Not Scary At All'. All right?" Eddie said, reaching for the doorknob but Richie grabbed his wrist, stopping him as he remembered.

"No, no, no," Richie yelled, pulling Eddie away from the door and stammering on his words as he tried to explain.

"Wait, why?" Eddie asked fearfully.

"They're flipped. He's fucking with us," Richie said, remembering how Bill had convinced him that the doors weren't real.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asked, both of them turning back to look at the monstrous appendage trying to snap at them. "Positive?"

"Trust me," Richie said, hoping that this was right. "Yes!"

"Okay," Eddie said as Richie went to the door with _Very Scary_ written on it.

Richie slowly opened the door, seeing nothing inside but darkness and he knew there was something in the shadows.

"Where's my shoe?" the voice of a little girl whispered, her voice echoing faintly.

Richie stared into the darkness for a moment before slowly, almost hesitantly, reaching up and pulling on the chain that he was sure hadn't been there a moment ago. Inside was a simple closet with a few shirts. Suddenly, both of them could hear rapid footsteps coming towards them and the little girl's voice laughing.

Both started screaming, horrified, when they saw a pair of bloodied legs walking towards them, the entire upper body missing. Richie slammed the door shut.

"What the fuck?!" Eddie yelled. "You told me to trust you!"

They both screamed again, yelping, when they nearly backed into the snapping monster.

"He's not fucking with us," Richie said. "Let's go to 'Not Scary At All'," he said even though he didn't really want to.

Eddie hesitantly opened the door with _Not Scary At All_ written on it. They saw nothing but a dark and seemingly empty cavern.

"It's all right. Let's go," Richie whispered.

Both were about to step forward when they heard panting. They both looked down to see a little golden yellow Pomeranian looking up at them, eyes big and brown, though they hardly noticed that its' eyes were looking in two different directions, just like Pennywise's.

"Oh, shit," Richie whispered.

"No way am I falling for this shit again," Eddie said quietly.

"Oh, yeah. That thing's a fucking monster," Richie agreed.

Eddie quickly looked over his shoulder to see if the appendage was still trying to snap at them, which it was.

"Richie, make it sit," he whispered.

Richie lowered himself down so that he was just slightly closer to the Pomeranian.

"I know your movies, you little bitch," he whispered to it and the Pomeranian just stared up at him with its big eyes.

They heard something creaking behind them and turned to see that the snapping appendage had disappeared, but they didn't miss Pennywise's taunting cackle echoing from down the tunnel.

"Rich?" Eddie whispered, his heart pounding. "It's gone, man."

"Yeah, wait," Richie said, the both of them turning back to look at the Pomeranian.

"Okay," Eddie whispered.

"Sit," Richie ordered the Pomeranian.

To their surprise, and maybe even a little awe, the dog actually sat down, still staring up at them.

"He did it," Eddie whispered, his eyes wide.

"Oh, that's cute," Richie whispered.

"That's a good boy," Eddie praised the Pomeranian.

"That's actually super cute," Richie said.

"That's a good boy," Eddie repeated, smiling slightly. "Are you a good boy?"

"Good boy," Richie praised.

The Pomeranian actually seemed to frown before it actually looked like it was grinning, and then it was morphing into a different form as it started snarling viciously at them. They both started screaming as a one-eyed, mostly hairless, skeletal hellhound creature screeched at them, teeth bared. It ran towards them on two legs and Richie slammed the door shut.

"Shit!" Richie yelled.

"Okay! Regular scary!" Eddie said, grabbing the handle and not even thinking about it.

"No, wait!" Richie yelled just as Eddie yanked the door open.

They peeked inside and saw, instead of a dark chamber surrounded by rocks, a bedroom. It looked like a bedroom for a babies, a nursery, and on one side of the room, the walls and ceiling were baby blue, and on the other, they were baby pink. Inside were over a dozen cribs that lined the walls, some with baby blue blankets and others with baby pink. Little bulbs that looked like lights flickered, decorating the ceiling like little nightlights and inside the cribs closets to them, they could see little plush toys of baby blue and baby pink spiders and there were even green turtles decorating the blankets.

"Oh, fuck," Richie said, understanding what this meant as Eddie whimpered, almost understanding.

"He can't be serious... right?" Eddie asked hesitantly.

"The fuck are you asking me for?" Richie asked as a stroller was suddenly wheeling its way towards them, though they saw nobody behind it that would be pushing it towards them, kind of like the tricycle that Beverly and Ben had followed.

"Shit... shit..." Eddie whimpered.

A pink blanket covered the seat, obscuring form view whatever nightmare fuel Pennywise was hiding underneath it.

"Do we look?" Eddie asked fearfully.

"Probably not a good idea," Richie said, ready to shut the door and turn around but the blanket suddenly fell down on its own, revealing what was underenath.

Bright and deep shaded blue eyes, just like Pennywise's when he was happy, stared up at them. The eyes belonged to a little baby, who they guessed was a girl from the color of the blanket and the inside of the stroller, and she had a head full of short but spiky, fluffy looking ginger hair, though it looked a big reddish like Bill's, and the shape of her face and nose reminded Richie and Eddie of Bill and Georgie. The little button nose especially reminded them of Georgie.

The baby was wearing a little Italian opera clown suit, just like Pennywise's, and was even wearing white gloves just like his. She was even holding a little Pennywise doll. She didn't have on clown makeup, and was as pink as a newborn.

On the stroller, there was a name printed in bold, pink letters.

 _Georgie_.

"Do we panic?" Eddie asked, his knees shaking.

"Probably," Richie said, still staring at the baby which stared right back up at them.

"It's totally a monster... right?" Eddie asked.

Her lower lip suddenly jutted out, as though she was pouting, and then she started to cry, as though she understood what Eddie had said and it hurt her feelings, and she closed her eyes and scrunched up her little nose.

"Aw, Richie, what'd you do?" Eddie asked, feeling slightly bad now.

"Me? You're the one that just called it a monster--" Richie said and the baby started bawling. "Oh, no, no, no, no, hey, hey, come on, don't cry... little she-demon... baby thing--" he said awkwardly and the baby started wailing.

"Oh, jeez!" Eddie yelped, flinching away.

"Eddie, do something," Richie said.

"Why me?" Eddie questioned, not really sure what he was supposed to do now.

"You're the one that pissed it off," Richie said. "And I don't know how to interact with these people," he added.

"Babies or baby monsters?" Eddie asked, yelping again when the baby started screaming unhappily.

"Both," Richie said. "I'm not getting my face bitten off," he added.

"So you want me to get mine bitten off?" Eddie asked. "Maybe it's hungry..." he added nervously.

"Oh, that's not comforting at all," Richie said. "Probably wants to eat us..." he said even though they could see the baby had no teeth in her mouth.

"Probably wants to eat Stan..." Eddie said and the baby stopped crying.

It looked back up at them before it started smiling and then it started giggling, as though she thought what Eddie had said was funny.

"Is that good or bad," Richie asked as the baby kept giggling.

"Hopefully good," Eddie whispered as the baby kept staring at them, now laughing.

Both chuckled nervously, Eddie even giving the baby a small wave.

"If this wasn't going to haunt me for the rest of my probably short life, this would be adorable," Richie said.

"Yeah... hi... hi there..." Eddie greeted the baby. "Who's a little boojiboojiboo?"

Eddie started talking to the baby in baby talk while Richie gave it a nervous smile and a small wave. The baby kept laughing as Richie made a funny face, sticking his tongue out at it.

The Pennywise doll suddenly grinned wickedly, yellow eyes flashing and gleaming, before it was leaping from the baby's arms and the baby started outright cackling, not madly or evilly but almost as though this was hilarious for her, as the Pennywise doll shrieked and lunged for Eddie's face, little gloved hands latching onto his hair immediately and the doll's mouth opened wide as it tried to bite him.

"Oh, fuck!" Eddie yelled, falling backwards and landing on his back as Richie jumped away.

"Shit! Shit! Oh, fuck! Shit!" Richie yelled as the doll's sharp teeth tried to bite Eddie's face off.

"This isn't fucking _Five Nights at Freddy's_ or Chucky asshole!" Eddie yelled as the Pennywise cackled delightedly, still trying to chomp down as Eddie tried to pry it off.

"Hey, Richie," Bill's voice said and Richie turned to see the baby now holding a doll that looked just like Bill in his own clown suit.

The Bill doll grinned at him, grinning the same grin the spider-like Bill head had in the kitchen, sharp teeth protruding from his gums as his eyes gleamed nastily.

"Oh, fuck," Richie said, already knowing, once again, what was coming.

The Bill doll lunged for Richie's face and he just barely managed to swat it away and back through the doorway before it could grab onto him, the baby cackling happily all the while, even clapping her tiny little hands. Richie yanked the Pennywise doll off of Eddie's face, Eddie yelping in pain as the doll tore out some of his hair, and he threw it back into the doorway, watching as it bounced and rolled on the floor along with the Bill doll. The baby kept laughing as the Bill doll ran towards them and they could still hear the baby's laughter as Richie slammed the door shut and they ran back down the tunnel.

"Yo, next time, let's just run past the baby!" Eddie yelled, running ahead of Richie.

"Next time?!"

In the water, Stan turned around when he heard footsteps behind him. He saw the stairs that led up into Bill's house and saw Bill walking down the stairs, but he wasn't dressed in the clown's suit and his face wasn't painted like a clown. He was in a simple white t-shirt and pajama bottoms. Stan jerked his head back when he heard Georgie's voice behind him.

"I lost it, Billy," Georgie said quietly from the corner of the basement. "It just floated off..."

Stan looked back at Bill, who had tears in his eyes and the same guilty expression that Stan had had on his face for the past few days ever since he'd gotten Mike's call.

"I'm not mad at you," Bill stuttered.

Stan hesitantly looked back at Georgie.

"It's your fault what happened, isn't it?" Georgie asked. "You weren't really sick that morning, were you?"

Stan understands then. Bill had made Georgie the paper boat, but he hadn't gone with him. And that was the day Georgie went missing, the day he had died. And Bill had blamed himself, just as Stan blamed himself for what they did to Bill. Stan understood now.

"No," Bill says truthfully from behind him and Stan turns back to look, his heart clenching and his stomach twisting itself into painful knots. "I just pretended because I didn't want to play with you," Bill says guiltily. "I just didn't want to."

Stan understands Bill's situation even more then. Bill regretted it because he honestly thought it was his fault and he honestly thought that if he had gone with Georige, then maybe it wouldn't have happened. Then again, Pennywise might've taken off with the both of them instead of just Georgie. And it didn't help that Bill's parents started to treat him like shit, his own mother blatantly ignoring him and his father helped nothing. And it's even worse on both Stan and Bill, considering that maybe if Georgie hadn't died, assuming Bill wouldn't have gotten killed too if he had gone with him, then they never would've discovered Pennywise's presence and then maybe, just maybe, Bill wouldn't be a creature like Pennywise.

Though, Stan thinks, that if they hadn't discovered Pennywise, then the clown would've just picked the seven of them off over the course of the summer, one by one. At the same time, that was probably a better ending than what they did to Bill.

"You lied and I died," Georgie said. "You lied and I died," he repeated. "You lied and I died!" he yelled, his voice growing angrier and angrier but Stan knows, even though he didn't know Georgie personally, that Georgie could never be angry at Bill. "You lied and I died! You lied and I died!"

"It happened because of me, Georgie. Me," Bill said, openly crying no and Stan's heart and stomach clenched painfully.

"No, no, no. It was..." Stan started to say but then he realized something was holding onto his hand... or some _one._..

Stan realized he was holding onto Georgie's hand, the bright yellow of the slicker sticking out even in the darkness of the basement, but Georgie's head was turned away from him. Georgie turned to look at him and Stan yelped at the sight of a rotted face, worms sticking of Georgie's eye and the other eye, pale and dead, glared down at him.

"Lied and died! Lied and died!" Georgie yelled at him. "Lied and died!"

Stan grabbed Georgie and dunked him under the water and he could hear the corpse yelling at him, the sound muffled by the water as he splashed around and Stan felt nauseous at the sound of suffocating but he kept holding the illusion under. He only let go when he felt the body stop moving, when the small hand stopped smacking his already bruised arm. The body sunk under the water, disappearing into the darkness. Stan let out a shaky breath, his heart thumping madly in his chest.

In the bathroom, Beverly yanked on the lock, which refused to budge. She let go when she heard a pounding on the door from the other side and climbed back onto the toilet.

In the clubhouse, Ben was looking around wildly as dirt suddenly started to pour in from between the boards on the walls and from underneath the sheets of metal, breaking the wood and bending the metal that were supposed to hold it back. Ben yelped.

"You in there, you little shit? I can smell you," Beverly heard Greta's voice taunting her from the other side of the door as the illusion pushed it open far enough so that Beverly could just barely see the faces on the other side.

The door shut and opened again and she could see Mr. Keene's face next as he started sniffing the air.

"You smell just like Lois Lane," Mr. Keene said, his eyes the same ominous yellow as Pennywise's.

The door shut and opened again, revealing the bloodied, grinning face of a young Henry Bowers.

"Here's Johnny!" Bowers yelled.

Beverly sat beside the toilet, trying to block out the sounds of voices chattering as the door rattled viciously. It stopped and even though she didn't want to look up, she did anyway.

Slowly, the lock unlocked itself and the door slowly swung open. Beverly's eyes slowly widened, her mind unable to comprehend what she was seeing, as a light flickered at the end of a seemingly never-ending hallway, but she could still see the scene Pennywise was showing her. Vividly.

It was Bill and the younger version of Mrs. Kersh's father that Pennywise had shown her and they they had seen after the spider-like Pennywise. Robert, he had said his name was, was on his knees, Bill's lower body propped up against his outer thighs and his back pressed against the clown's chest and Bill's legs were propped up, his knees bent, and spread open. Bill was staring at her, his eyes impossibly wide and terrified. Beverly whimpered.

Robert was holding onto each of Bill's hands on either side of the boy's head and Beverly could see that the grip was possessive and screamed dangerous. Just like Tom but infinitely _worse_. Bill's belly was bigger than when Robert had revealed him... round and swollen and _pregnant_... even his chest looked larger than it was supposed to be, almost like he had _breasts_...

And the bottom of his jumpsuit, between his legs, was soaked through, almost making him look as though he had peed himself but Beverly knew better. Even though Bill Denbrough was a boy... he was now a creature like Robert, a shape-shifting Deadlight... so genders didn't matter... his _water_ had _broke_...

Bill's lower lip quivered and she could hear his terrified whimper and Beverly flinched as he heard Robert singing.

" _Hush little baby, don't say a word... daddy's going to buy you a mocking bird..._ " he sang, grinning knowingly at Beverly.

Bill's mouth fell open and he started screaming, throwing his head back into the clown's chest and his own hands gripping Robert's back, the sound of his screaming high-pitched and eternally haunting, an expression of sheer agony on his face as he tried to squirm and thrash himself out of Robert's grip, the clown laughing a sinister laugh at Beverly's horror as blood suddenly started pooling on the groin and the backside of Bill's jumpsuit. Beverly started screaming and she kept screaming even as the door swung itself shut again, slamming and making her jump and it locked itself again.

In the clubhouse, the walls were slowly starting to close in and Ben looked around wildly, his chest heaving as he tried not to start hyperventilating.

Beverly lifted her head back up when she heard the sound of liquid rushing. Under the stall door, blood started to pour into the stall in waves and Beverly gasped just as the boards of the clubhouse broke and earth started to fill the hole Ben was in. Ben started screaming in terror as Beverly started yelping, horrified, and trying to yank the door open as the blood started filling the stall, flooding in from the floors and even pouring out of the toilet as the light flickered above her head. Ben kept screaming as the walls started to close in on him, his heart thudding wildly in his chest as his stomach turned.

Beverly climbed back onto the toilet, feeling the disgusting warmth of the blood soaking through her shoes and then her socks and the legs of her pants. Blood from her shoe splattered on the lid of the toilet as she tried to climb away. Ben tried to reach up for the opening above him, but there was no ladder and it was too far away.

Ben yelped and jumped when he saw Pennywise, bulbous and cracked head with spiked up ginger hair, grinning down at him, his yellow irises glowing.

"All that success, all those sit-ups, but deep down, still just a little fat, fat, fatty loser..." Pennywise taunted him before laughing at him. "... who always knew he would die alone," Pennywise added before the face shifted into the more human, handsome one of Robert, the ginger hair turning into the dark brown hair that covered his entire head.

"You know what the best part about having more than one world in a great big Macroverse is, Ben?" Robert asked him, his irises still glowing with wicked delight, ignoring Ben's confusion and instead relishing in his terror. "I get to kill you more than once! I always like to start with your feet and work my way up!"

Robert laughed maniacally before shutting the door to the clubhouse, dousing Ben in darkness and Ben started screaming.

The door kept opening just a crack, different faces peeking in and Beverly could hear hissing from her father's face as the blood quickly rose up to her chest.

"Slut!" Mr. Keen's voice yelled.

"Bev!" Bowers yelled.

Beverly was screaming as she banged her fist on the stall.

"BILL!" she cried out desperately. "BILL, PLEASE!" she begged.

As the dirt started to quickly cover his shoulders, Ben could hear Beverly screaming.

"Beverly!" Ben called out, his eyes wide and his heart screaming in his chest.

The stall door snapped shut, before it slowly creaked open again.

"Beverly..." Bill's voice whispered from the door and Beverly gasped as she looked back to see a bloodied, gloved hand holding onto the door. "Beverly... please... help me..." Bill begged as Ben yelled for her.

"Beverly, can you hear me?" Ben screamed.

Bill whimpered from behind the door and Beverly watched as he slowly put his forehead against the door.

"Bill...?" Beverly whimpered, too scared to know if this was really Bill or another one of Pennywise's tricks.

Beverly wasn't delusional and she knew denial would do her no good. She knew the Bill they had seen on Pennywise's shoulder that had screamed at them, that had taunted them in the library, was the real Bill Denbrough. She just wasn't so sure about this one.

"Why did you do this to me, Beverly?" Bill whimpered and Beverly felt hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

Bill started sobbed and Beverly's heart and stomach felt like someone was taking knives to them, stabbing them in, yanking them back out, and stabbing them in again and again.

"Why did you do this?" Bill asked her in a low voice. "Why did you do this!?" he screamed and she cried out.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" Beverly cried, instinctively and genuinely.

"LIAR!" Bill snarled at her, his face looking into the stall and she cried out, seeing that his eyes were glowing yellow, all of his teeth sharp and sticking out of his mouth. "You did this to me, Beverly! You did this to me!"

"Bev, don't listen!" Ben yelled, hearing Bill's voice yelling and Beverly screaming out apologies.

Beverly yelped as she lost her grip and her head went under the blood.

"Are you happy now?! Huh, Bev?! Were you so happy with Tom?! Was it worth it?!" Bill screamed as Beverly fought to keep her head above the blood, gasping for breath and trying not to swallow it.

"Beverly, I love you!" Ben yelled.

Beverly heard him over Bill's screaming, her heart suddenly beating strangely. Not with fear or with guilt, but with something warm and actually nice. A newfound fire burned under her skin, flickering in her heart.

"Ben!" Beverly called and Bill's eyes hardened as he pulled away, only to be replaced with Beverly's father, whose eyes were a bright, ominous shade of yellow.

"Are you still my little girl, Bevvie?" her father asked her. "Are you still my little girl?"

"Not anymore!" Beverly screamed, grabbing onto each side of the stall and lifting up her lower half, grunting as she slammed her feet into the stall door and slammed it on the illusion's fingers, watching as the fingers snapped clean off his hand and hearing her father's voice screaming in agony.

"You little bitch!" Robert's voice yelled instead of her father's.

"Your hair is winter fire," Ben yelled, his head almost completely under the dirt and Beverly whimpered, almost drowning in the blood. "January embers. My heart..." Ben cried out, his head going under as Beverly started kicking at the door. "my heart..."his voice echoed as she started shouting, still kicking the door. "No!"

Beverly yelled and finally kicked the door open, seeing underneath her, as though the entire world had shifted and was somehow upside down, that she was above Ben and what looked like the clubhouse but it was quickly filling with dirt. She could hear Ben screaming and see his arm sticking out.

"Ben!" Beverly screamed. "Ben!"

She slowly inched her way down, reaching her arm out but her fingers barely even brushed his. She cried out as his hand slowly sunk away from hers.

"Hey, Bev," Beverly yelped when she heard Bill's voice right in her ear.

She turned her head, her eyes widening as she saw Bill behind her, his hands and feet pressed against the walls just like hers but he was grinning and his eyes were bright yellow and there was no bulge under his stomach. This wasn't Bill, but Pennywise.

"Time to sink," he said before grabbing her by the head and shoving her in.

Beverly screamed and her hands and feet slipped as she fell into the hole and into the soil. She cried out as she felt something grabbing onto her and she grabbed back, knowing it was Ben.

Ben gasped as they both fell over, the illusions of the blood filled bathroom stall and collapsing clubhouse disappearing and they found themselves back in the dark tunnel, Beverly lying on her back on the cold stone floor and Ben on top of her. One covered in dirt and the other covered in blood.

Both gasped as they stared at each other, one up and the other down. Realization dawned on Beverly.

"January embers," Beverly whispered.

'My heart burns there, too," Ben whispered, his heart fluttering as he smiled.

"It was you," Beverly whispered.

Ben smiled, feeling like he could kiss her despite everything, until they both heard Pennywise whooping in the distance. Ben climbed off her and helped her to her feet, the both of them running back down the tunnel.

In the water, Stan sighed softly as he heard Bill walking towards him, wading through the water.

"Now you know how it feels," Bill said and Stan hesitantly turned around again to see that the boy in the pajamas was gone, replaced with the boy in the clown suit with the painted face and a protruding stomach.

A _pregnant_ belly.

Bill stared down at him, his eyes paler than before, and somehow more sad and Stan knew this was the real Bill, not another one of Pennywise's illusions.

"I just... didn't want to play with him... and then he went... missing," Bill said, tears streaming down his white cheeks. "I thought... if I found him... everything would be okay again... but after Pennywise... in Neibolt... I knew Georgie was gone and I just... I was just angry..." Bill said, sniffling.

"Bill..." Stan whispered, his own eyes stinging with tears.

"I couldn't kill him... not alone... some other me killed the last female with the actual stupid ritual... so Robert killed them... and now... this..." Bill said, his hands on his swollen stomach. "I hate you..." Bill murmured and Stan didn't blame him. "I hate all of you..."

Stan's lip quivered as he started crying.

"I know... I know... we deserve it... I deserve it, Bill..." Stan stared up at him. "Just... just don't hurt them... I deserve what I get... just..." Stan stuttered on his words, struggling to speak.

"He wants them all dead, Stan. Ben especially," Bill said, no emotion in his words other than sadness and Stan still couldn't find it in himself to blame him.

"I know... I know... just... it's my fault, Bill... not theirs... they wouldn't have left if I didn't..." Stan said, trying his hardest not to start bawling like a kid.

Bill gave him an unhappy stare.

"But they didn't even try to make you stay," Bill said and that was like a sock to the gut.

"I know... they were kids, Bill... it was my fault..." Stan said and Bill's eyes seemed sadder, almost empathetic.

"Were you happy with her? With Patty?" Bill asked and Stan flinched, knowing why Bill knew his wife's name even though he never told her.

Hesitantly, Stan nodded, closing his eyes as the tears fell.

"I didn't get that, you know. I would've had a beautiful wife, an actress that starred in the movies that would've come from my books. Some worlds, I'm a great horror writer, but in some worlds my endings sucked. Robert says too that the Audra in this world won't have a very happy life," Bill said and Stan sobbed. "You killed my parents. They killed themselves, because of you. It wasn't even just me you fucked over," Bill said. "You ruined that Stan. You took that from me."

"I know... I know... I did this... you'd be here instead of me..." Stan said, his eyes burning and his nose stinging.

"Give me one good reason to let all of you live, or even just them and kill you, instead of killing all of you and enjoying it," Bill said. "A lot," he added darkly.

Stan whimpered. There really was no good reason to let them live. They would all deserve whatever Bill gave them and more. But-- Stan looked back up at him.

"You're better than that," Stan said.

Bill scoffed even as he walked closer and closer and distantly, Stan could hear a low growl from the shadows, one he knew belonged to Pennywise.

Bill put his hands on Stan's face.

"I'm so sorry," Stan whispered, meaning it.

Bills tared at him, his eyes void of emotion.

"So am I," Bill said. "Deep breath, Stan. It kills monsters if you believe it does."

And with that, Bill shoved Stan's head under the water. Stan felt it when Bill let go of him and he swam back through the darkness, popping back out of the same hole he'd fallen into when the Pennywise was chasing him. Stan coughed, gasping for air as he crawled out of the hole. He groaned as he rolled onto the ground.

Bill sniffled as he felt Robert's arms wrapping around his middle, the clown's chin resting on his shoulder.

"We need to talk, Billy," Robert murmured, his words gentle, and Bill flinched, already knowing what the clown was planning and he knew it wouldn't end very well for two people... maybe three...

Mike turned when he heard water sloshing and he saw Stan lying on the ground, soaking wet but _alive_.

"Stan," Mike whispered, hope flickering in his heart.

Mike crawled out of his hiding spot, jumping up and ready to start running towards Stan but he gasped when he saw the giant, spider-like Pennywise appear right in front of him, looming over him.

"Miss me?" the Pennywise asked, grinning wickedly.

Mike held his ground, glaring at the creature as he clenched his fists.

"I know what you are," Mike said, remembering the stories the Shokopiwah had told him. "That's why I'm not afraid."

A long appendage shot out from Pennywise's arm and grabbed onto Mike, wrapping itself around his body and lifting him up from the ground. Mike groaned in pain as the appendage's grip tightened, a sharp claw sticking out just under his chin as the Pennywise laughed evilly at him.

"Well, I know what you are," Pennywise told him, his voice taunting.

Pennywise's eyes hardened even as they glowed yellow.

"A madman," Pennywise whispered, his eye swide as the claw inched closer and closer to Mike's chin, taunting him with the idea of impaling him.

Pennywise's mouth stretched open, hundreds of sharp teeth sticking out of his gums and Mike started yelping, afraid, as the appendage lifted him up to the clown's mouth, the monster ready to devour him in one gulp. Pennywise suddenly grunted, closing his mouth and blinking with shock when he felt a rock hitting him in the side of the head. Mike and the clown both turned to see Richie glaring up at the monster, a defiant look on his face.

"Hey, fuckface!" Richie yelled as the Pennywise turned towards him, glaring before tossing Mike to the side, throwing him into the wall and Mike dropped to the ground, groaning in pain.

Richie picked up another rock, acting a lot braver than he actually felt.

"You wanna play _Truth or Dare_?" Richie asked the clown. "Here's a truth," he said. "You're a sloppy bitch!"

The clown's arms dangled in front of him as he glared at Richie, looking unimpressed and annoyed, wondering if that was as good as Tozier could do.

"Yeah, that's right! Let's dance! Yippee-ki-yay... mother--" Richie said as he lifted his arm, ready to throw another rock, but then he was frozen in his spot, dropping the rock as the beat of the Deadlights echoed in the chamber and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his mouth hung open.

Pennywise had opened his mouth wide, revealing his Deadlights, and had trapped Richie like a fly in a spider's web. Richie felt so cold and he could hear and see people screaming and dying horrible, gruesome deaths. His physical body started to float upwards as Pennywise projected his Deadlights out of his, projecting from the three, great blue lights.

Eddie gasped as he ran out of the tunnel, seeing Richie floating in the air with Pennywise in front of him, the light from the Deadlights shining out of his monstrous mouth. Eddie whimpered as Richie's nose started to bleed, the blood floating upwards.

Stan gasped, remembering Beverly and Bill's words as he grabbed his broken piece of fence. His heart was screaming in his chest to wait for somebody else to do something, but the guilt over everything he had caused with one bad day made him go for it.

"This kills monsters," Stan whispered to himself as he stood, willing himself to truly believe. "If you believe it does. If you believe it does. If you believe it does. If you believe it does," he repeated to himself, running around the clown and standing beside Eddie. "Beep-beep, motherfucker!" Stan yelled, throwing the piece of fence like a javelin towards the monster's mouth.

The fence went flying and it pierced Pennywise right in the mouth, the clown suddenly yowling with pain as the Deadlights broke their hold on Richie, who quickly fell to the ground. Pennywise started choking, blood spewing out of his mouth before he was falling backwards, impaling himself in the back and out his front on the jagged points of the rock formation. The piece of fence flew out of his mouth, clattering to the floor. Mike gave a shaky laugh as he looked at Stan.

"Holy shit!" Stan yelled, surprised at himself.

Pennywise wheezed as his mouth turned back to the clown's mouth, the monstrous features disappearing, blood floating out of his mouth and his wounds as his head fell back, as though he was dead.

"Richie!" Stan and Eddie yelled as they both ran towards their friend, who slowly felt the warmth creeping back into his veins.

"Oh, Rich!" Eddie yelled. "Hey, Rich, wake up! Hey," Eddie said, grinning. "Yeah, yeah! There he is, buddy!" Eddie said happily. "Hey, Richie, listen! Stan the pussy just saved your fucking life, man!" Eddie said and Richie blinked, his eyes wide, surprised. "I think Stan got him, man!" Eddie said with delight as Ben and Beverly ran back into the chamber, seeing Pennywise lying on the rock formation, impaled, and Eddie hovering over Richie with Stan standing to the side, the latter looking surprised. "I think he killed It! I think he killed It for real!"

Stan sighed, though he gave an unmanly yelp when he suddenly saw Bill standing in front of the clown's feet. Bill was staring up at Pennywise with an unreadable expression, but Stan would daresay it was sad, almost regretful, and hesitant.

Beverly gasped at the sight and Ben held onto her. Mike stared as Eddie helped Richie up, though both backed away while Stan stood in place.

"Bill..." Stan whispered, unsure of how he was supposed to feel.

"Took you 27 years but you finally did something," Bill said, frowning. "Are you going to kill me?"

Those words pierced Stan's heart and stomach. Stan blinked at him before shaking his head.

"Come with us," Stan whispered, cautiously approaching as the others watched, each face guiltier than the last.

"There's nothing out there for me, Stan," Bill said quietly. "I'm a monster... and _pregnant_."

Stan flinched but he kept going.

"We... we can... we can figure something out, Bill... all _seven_ of us," Stan whispered, hating that he had to kneel down so that his eyes were level with Bill's as he carefully turned the teen so that they were facing each other.

Stan tried to ignore the pregnant stomach sticking out at him as Bill stared at him, his eyes mirroring the regret and guilt that Stan felt, but for different reasons. Stan understood then. He understood and he just thought, he was so sorry and he loved Patty so much.

Stan hugged him, tears streaming down his cheeks as Bill hesitantly wrapped his arms around Stan's neck. Hope flickered in only five hearts despite the twisted, sick, disturbing, and horrific situation they had found themselves in.

"I'm sorry... I'm so... so sorry..." Stan sobbed, but he accepted it.

Bill pressed his lips to Stan's ear, his cold breath ghosting over the flesh.

"So am I."

And with that, Bill's mouth stretched open as his face contorted and his teeth turned sharp and monstrous, his eyes glowing yellow as he bit down into Stan's neck, sharp teeth sinking into his flesh and tearing through the jugular and Bill relished in the coppery, tangy taste of blood and the instant horror that struck Stan deep within his core even though he had accepted that this was what was coming.

The last thing Stan saw in his mind's eye was the pretty face of his wife and the last words in his mind were, "I'm sorry," and he accepted his death as he died instantly. Bill knew he had nothing to feel sorry for and Stan had accepted that and accepted that this was what he deserved.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

Beverly let out a shrill, ear-piercing scream or terror as Mike's eyes widened with horror while Pennywise, still impaled on the spikes, started laughing.

"No!" Eddie yelled, horrified, as he clung onto Richie.

"Uh-oh!" Pennywise cackled, his eyes gleaming madly, clearly pleased.

Bill yanked his head back, feeling disgusted with himself for relishing in the sound of tearing flesh and blood splattering as the light instantly left Stan's eyes, a look of peace on his face, as he shoved Stan's corpse to the ground, his entire mouth and front soaked with blood. He heard Eddie's whimper as they all stared at him.

"They like the taste, Billy! They want _more_!" Pennywise said, cackling evilly as his arm stretched out, shoving Richie away and grabbing onto Eddie.

"No! No! NO! FUCK!" Eddie screamed, hyperventilating, as he beat his fist on the clown's hand.

Beverly started screaming as Bill looked at the ground, torn between regret and wanting more... Stan was dead... so that was that... but the others still deserved it too... right? They hadn't convinced Stan to stay... but at the same time, Bill just didn't care anymore and he knew he would feel bad for what this was going to do to Patty Uris... he told Stan that he didn't get to have a happy life with Audra, but he was no better for taking Stan away from his wife... and Bill knew he would feel bad for Myra and Richie if Eddie died...

 _They deserve it..._ A nasty part of his own mind told him.

 _They've had enough..._ A regretful part of his own mind said.

_They deserve it._

_They've enough._

_They deserve it!_

_They've had enough!_

_THEY DESERVE IT!_

_THEY'VE HAD ENOUGH!_

Bill looked up at Pennywise, who was grinning at him, awaiting his decision as Eddie screamed in his hand, Richie and the others panicking and staring up at the clown in horror... Bill made his choice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Sorry Stan  
> \- That's one down, who else is going to get it, I wonder? ;)  
> \- I wanted to leave it at a cliffhanger with Stan getting his, but that was less fun. For me. And Pennywise  
> \- As a tag, do I add character death or does it not matter since Stan was already dead in the movie?  
> \- See you all in the next chapter which'll probably be up sooner than later!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- And here is 19  
> \- I hope it's good and I just want to say I'm so sorry for what's going to happen in this chapter  
> \- On the bright side, I'm thinking of another Billwise related story that's a cross between IT and Coraline but I can't figure out if I want Georgie to be alive in it or not. I swear if they take Coraline off of Netflix, if they haven't already, I'm going to be really fucking pissed  
> \- Oh, also, yumie_uchiha, I guess I don't mind if you translate this story to Portuguese, send me the links?  
> \- I'm thinking one more chapter? Maybe an epilogue? I can't believe I'm nearly done with this. Just a few months ago this was a random ass one-shot, how time flies by. There will definitely be ONE more chapter, and maybe an epilogue

"Put... put him down..." Bill begged, his eyes welling with tears.

Even if Stan had deserved what he'd got, Bill was already regretting what he'd done. He regretted it because he knew it would hurt Stan's wife-- _widow_. And he felt like a hypocrite for blaming Stan for ruining his life and taking away a life with Audra. Bill just didn't want anyone else to die, Eddie especially, because he knew it would hurt both Richie and Myra. Enough was enough. It would hurt all of them, the Losers, Richie especially, and Bill just didn't want to be responsible for making another woman a widow.

And it would most likely kill Myra because she was just like Eddie's mother, and she hadn't hurt him in any way so why should he hurt her? It was stupid, Bill knew, because Eddie hadn't convinced Stan to stay either, not even trying, but Bill just couldn't find it in himself to actually hurt them. It was Stan's fault and now he was dead... enough was enough, Bill thought, so why should more people suffer?

"Please... put him down..." Bill begged as Eddie kept screaming.

Pennywise blinked, clearly surprised with Bill's answer and then he was pouting, almost like a child being told that they couldn't have the snack they really wanted, which for Pennywise, was fitting, and then he was scowling.

"No more... no more... please..." Bill begged, his chest and stomach suddenly hurting.

Pennywise grunted unhappily as he yanked himself off the rocks and Eddie kept yelling as Pennywise started waving his arm around in the air before he threw Eddie across the chamber and he went into one of the holes. Eddie fell down, rolling over the rocks shaped like stairs, hitting each step on the way down. Richie gasped, looking shocked and relieved, and he ran after him, Beverly and Ben quickly following while Mike stayed put.

Just from that moment alone, Mike could see, despite what had happened to Stan, that there was still some good left in Bill. Enough for him to want to spare Eddie, though Mike still didn't understand why Pennywise bothered to listen to anything Bill had to say... he figured it was because Bill was now probably his equal in power, and because he was carrying his-- he stopped that though. What was done was done.

Mike didn't want to say that Stan had deserved to die, and in such a gruesome but probably quick way, because what had happened was all of their faults. However, that sick part of him prayed that Bill would see that killing Pennywise was the best option... Stan was the weakest, even if he had saved Richie from Pennywise's Deadlights... so, Mike honestly thought that with Bill's help, they could beat him... and with Bill being a Deadlight, their chances were much higher than before...

Mike quickly ran after the others, carefully watching as the spider-like Pennywise shrank down and the face morphed back into the Robert character, the clown slowly approaching Bill with an expression that was a mix between angry and worried. What did Pennywise have to be worried about? Other than his unborn?

"Eddie!" Richie, Ben, Beverly, and Mike all yelled, running down into the hole that Eddie had been thrown into.

"Eds!" Ben yelled.

"Eddie!" Richie yelled as the four of them quickly surrounded him, Richie rolling him off his stomach and onto his back, propping him against the wall.

Eddie groaned in pain, every inch of his body aching and he knew his ribs were most likely bruised... he'd be lucky if they weren't broken but he could still breath without feeling like his chest was being crushed... Myra was going to have his head... assuming Pennywise didn't... God, he missed her.

"Be careful! Be careful!" Ben said, his eyes wide with shock and relief.

The five of them jumped, Eddie letting out a pained yell at the sudden movement, when they heard something large crashing against the entrance, smashing into the rocks. They saw the giant spider-like Pennywise leering into the hole at them, eyes aglow.

"Come out and play, Losers!" Pennywise yelled, slamming his arms into the rocks.

"Eddie, hey, Eddie, you okay, man?" Richie asked urgently.

Eddie scoffed, wincing in pain after.

"I just got thrown into a hole by a big ass clown monster that wanted to feed me to his babies... I am not fucking okay," Eddie said, grimacing in pain as Ben suddenly noticed a tunnel behind them.

"Okay, so you're fine then," Richie said, sighing with relief.

"Oh, fuck you," Eddie groaned.

"Now what, Mike?" Beverly asked Mike, who was looking thoughtfully at the giant Pennywise trying to get at them, though he had a feeling this Pennywise was a distraction...

"Mike!" Richie yelled as Eddie kept groaning.

"Stan and I almost killed It..." Eddie whispered.

"Yeah..." Richie said quietly, not really wanting to think about Stan, the memory of Bill tearing out his throat making him want to puke.

"The leper..." Eddie said quietly and Mike turned back to look at him. "My hands around his throat... And I could feel him choking... I made him small," Eddie whispered as they all heard Pennywise grunting, still trying to get in. "He seemed so weak..." Eddie murmured, making an idea pop into Mike's head. "He seemed so weak..."

"The Shokopiwah," Mike said at once.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Mike," Richie said unhappily, not wanting to hear that again.

"No, no, listen. All living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit," Mike said quickly.

"Guys!" Ben yelled from down the tunnel, none of them having noticed that he'd disappeared. "There's a passageway. Through here."

"The tunnel," Beverly said, her eyes widening. "Pennywise will have to make himself small to get through the entrance of the cavern, right?" she asked. "Okay, so, if we can get back there, we can force him down to size."

"Yeah," Ben agreed.

"We make him small. Small enough so we can kill him," Beverly said.

A jeering voice floated down into the hole.

"Don't you think if I was going to shrink down to size--" the five of them yelped at Pennywise's words, the clown grinning nastily. "-- that I would've done that already?" he laughed.

"Let's go! Go! Come on! Come on!" Ben urged as Richie helped Eddie up, the latter whimpering in pain as Richie slung an arm over his shoulders, putting his hand on Eddie's side. "It's tight. It's tight. Be careful!"

Beverly slowly walked through the tunnel, seeing the opening. The five of them slowly made their way to the opening, seeing that the giant Pennywise was still trying to get at them.

"Where did Bill go?" Eddie murmured as he clung onto Richie.

They looked and saw that Bill had disappeared. Only Mike knew that the Robert character had also disappeared.

"He saved me... didn't he...? Even after everything... Bill saved me..." Eddie whispered, grimacing in pain as he tried to breath.

"Yeah... yeah... he did..." Ben said, looking at Mike. "Is there any chance...?"

Mike knew what he was trying to ask. The others thinking along the same lines. He sighed.

"I don't know..." Mike said truthfully. "I don't know if he's got it in him to fight Pennywise... but Pennywise won't want to attack him if he's preg--" they all flinched. "With chi--" they flinched again, Richie grimacing. "Pennywise won't want to hurt him back," Mike grit out.

"Losers out!" the giant Pennywise yelled, laughing again.

"Go. Go!" Ben yelled as they all started to run, though Richie was mostly hobbling as he carried Eddie.

The giant Pennywise turned around at once, his yellow eyes gleaming and Richie yelped as they all kept going. Like a spider, Pennywise climbed onto the wall and the five of them started screaming as he scurried across the ceiling and dropped down in front of them.

"Gotcha!" Pennywise yelled, whooping. "You filthy little children," he said, laughing.

"You got a plan B, man? What the hell do we do now?" Ben demanded as they all slowly backed away, but the giant Pennywise just slowly inched towards them.

A predator stalking its prey.

"You die. That's what you do," Pennywise said darkly, grinning evilly.

"Mike?" Ben asked.

Mike's heart was hammering in his chest. Pennywise wasn't going to make himself small... they had to find a way to make him smaller... Henry Bowers popped into Mike's mind, with his mad eyes and always angry face... always flanked by his goons, Belch Higgins and Victor Criss...

"There's more than one way to make someone small," Mike said, blood rushing in his ears.

"Make him believe that he is," Beverly said, all of them simultaneously remember how Bowers and his gang had always bullied them.

Beverly especially remembered Greta and the other girls always picking on her for rumors that weren't true and they had always called her trash. Always called her a slut. Always making her feel weak and small...

Pennywise just chuckled, but it was a bitter, hollow thing.

"I guess the more things change, the more they stay the same," Pennywise said, his large facing morphing from the bulbous and cracked head to the more human, handsome face of Robert, the spiked up ginger hair lowering and his head was quickly covered with dark brown hair. "For the record, big brothers don't like it when their baby brothers get bullied," he said darkly.

"The fuck are you talking about?" Richie yelled as Eddie whimpered.

"This very moment," Robert growled, his eyes changing from yellow to red, the irises seemingly bleeding as they changed color, showing his growing anger. "You bullied him until he shrunk down to size... all so you could tear his little heart out of his body and crush it in your filthy hands..." he growled, too angry to even take delight in the smell of their terror. "It was beating so madly... he was so scared... He too, in our years, even as my twin... compared to me... He was just a _baby_!" Robert yelled, his hand curling into a fist and he slammed it into the earth, the five of them just barely able to jump out of the way as a large crater was embedded into the ground, rocks flying all over. "That's two hearts torn out of their still moving bodies!" he bellowed, teeth growing sharp.

Robert turned on Ben, who cried out in terror, having been separated from the others.

"And you attacked her while she was _pregnant_!" Robert screamed, swinging angrily at Ben and slamming his hand into the rock formation, breaking it apart. "You killed the _unborn_! Stomped and stomped and stomped every last one and you weren't even sure if you got them all! Oh, but Robert knows! You got every last one!" Robert roared, chasing after Ben who was just barely able to scramble away.

"Ben!" Beverly screamed as she helped Mike up, Richie still holding onto Eddie.

"They were sleeping! They couldn't protect themselves! And you killed them all!" Robert howled, an inhuman, monstrous screech under his words as Ben ducked underneath him, running back to the others.

"Mike, what's he talking about?" Richie yelled as Robert turned around, letting out a monstrous roar.

"I don't know!" Mike yelled, genuinely unsure of what to do now.

"More than one world! Many worlds in a Macroverse! Many Deadlights in many worlds! Now no more except Robert and Billy!" Robert yelled, scurrying like a spider to climb back on the wall and backhanding Mike's entire body, sending him flying through the air before he slammed into the wall.

Mike cried out in pain, his breath escaping him, landing on his back and he coughed, his chest heaving though he couldn't seem to find air, though he yelped in shock when he realized he'd landed right next to Stan's body, the man's eyes glazed over with death, staring into nothingness. They were void of light.

"Say hi to him for me, Mikey!" Robert yelled, his hand morphing into a claw once more and he poised it, ready to strike and kill.

Robert grunted in shock when a rock hit him in the head.

"Okay..." Richie whispered, eyes wide, as Eddie trembled. "That definitely wasn't me..."

They all looked to see, standing in front of the entrance, Bill, who had tears streaming down his cheeks and another rock in his hand, the other hand on his swollen stomach, and there was a pained expression on his face.

Mike wasn't sure if he should feel relived or worried. Relieved that he had more time to live and think of a new plan, and relieved that Bill of all people had saved him... or worried about what was going to happen next.

"Just... just let them go..." Bill said, his eyes and voice desperate, laced with pain. "Stan's... Stan's dead... they... they already know to stay away... just... just please... let them go..."he begged.

Robert growled, low and dangerous. Displeased.

Beverly bit her tongue to hold back her sob while the others stared in shock. The guilt made it feel like a heavy weight was crushing her chest. None of them, they knew, deserved this mercy.

"Tom's dead--" Bill said and Beverly's eyes widened, shocked and even relieved. "Patty's.... Patty's already going to suffer..." he said, remorseful. "Myra's probably going to have a fucking heart attack..." Eddie chuckled weakly at that. "Stan's dead... and you already killed the Ben that actually killed... them... you already killed all of them... in the other worlds... just... no more... just let them go... please..." he begged.

Robert's eyes narrowed, clearly not liking what he was hearing.

"No."

The clown lifted his arm back up, ready to pierce the claw through Mike's heart, but Bill threw the second rock at him, hitting him in the face.

"Stop that," Robert growled unhappily.

Bill stepped forward, but Mike noticed he was wincing in pain with each step. He didn't stop until he stood in front of Mike, looking up at Pennywise with eyes that were both defiant and begging. It made Mike's guilt even worse, and yet he felt so relieved.

"Get out of the way, Billy," Robert ordered, a growl in his voice.

"Let them go," Bill begged.

Robert's handsome face contorted into a furious sneer before he was turning around, now going after Richie and Eddie. His mouth stretched open and he roared, making the two scream and jump back, but then Bill was standing in front of them, disappearing and reappearing before their eyes.

"Get out of my way!" Robert roared, eyes a dark, bloody red.

"Let them go," Bill said, not begging anymore, though he winced in pain, holding his stomach with both hands now.

Robert's eyes hardened, though the angry blood red faded back into the bright, ominous yellow as he slowly shrunk, his features becoming more human and his legs turning back into human legs instead of spider legs. Ben, Beverly, Richie, and Eddie slowly backed away. Bill held his ground even though Robert loomed over him, over six feet tall.

"Is this what you're going to do now, Billy? Defend them?" Robert asked, his eyes angry as Mike's own drifted over to the broken piece of fence...

_That's two **hearts** torn out of their still moving bodies!_

Robert had said that they'd torn out the hearts of two other Deadlights. The twin he had mentioned and then another... Like all living creatures, if you destroyed the heart then the creature would die. If you destroyed the heart, you destroyed the monster... if Pennywise had to be small, or at least smaller than the spider form, then that was how they took the heart out... Mike grabbed the piece of fence...

"Stan's gone... it was his fault... I don't want to hurt anyone else..." Bill said, crying now and holding his stomach.

Robert's eyes softened as he placed his hands on Bill's cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears.

"Even when they deserve it?" Robert asked, the two of them clearly knowing something the Losers didn't.

"This is so fucked up..." Richie whispered, though he jumped back when Robert's head turned sharply, the clown looking right at him, glaring.

It was hypocritical, Bill knew, but he couldn't help it. Robert heard his thoughts as they came to his mind. After Stan, who was the person most responsible for what had happened, Bill didn't want to hurt anyone else. Patty Uris and the rest of Stan's family were already going to suffer from this... and Bill just wanted to let it go. He just wanted them to live actually happy lives for another good thirty years or so.

Though, if Bill was a nastier, meaner, cruel being, which the female's light inside of him was, then he could think that he would live, alongside Robert, for the rest of eternity knowing that they would outlive the Losers and so long as Robert let the Losers remember, then they would be haunted until their dying days with the fact that they couldn't kill Pennywise the Dancing Clown, the very last Deadlight in all of existence, no less, and he'd carried on with making more creatures like himself. They would be haunted by that fact, surely. Robert chuckled, sort of impressed because he knew this was more along Billy's line of thought, not the dead light inside of him.

"They've learned their lesson... I just want _them_..." Bill said, referring to the unborn.

Robert, however, knew it wasn't true that the Losers had learned their lesson. At least, not all five of them had.

"Close your eyes, Billy," Robert whispered, not wanting Bill to have to see what was coming, and the boy did as he was told.

Robert supposed it was better to just give Billy what he wanted even though he had wanted to relish in killing this world's set of Losers... but... he guessed Billy could have what he wanted, his heart much too big and surprisingly forgiving for secretly being such a mean little shit in Robert's opinion, and Robert knew he would would be victorious either way, no matter what happened to himself because he knew none of the Losers, not even Mike, could kill Bill. No matter the circumstances, but he would still have the last word.

"They'll go, Billy--" Robert said and Ben, Beverly, Eddie, and Richie all gasped with surprise and relief, possibly even gratitude. "-- but I know _someone_ hasn't--"

The clown's words were cut short and then he was yelling in pain, eyes going wide and Bill jumped back, his eyes shooting open when he felt something cold and wet splattering his face and he let out a horrified cry and even Beverly gave a shocked scream. Inches from Bill's face, sticking out of the clown's chest, having pierced his back and stabbing into his heart and popping out the front, was the broken piece of fence.

Bill's breathing shuddered, the boy letting out a shocked, horrified sob as Robert's gloved fingers brushed over the sharp, bloodied end of the fence. There was no shock in Robert's eyes, however. His expression was pained, but he had known this was going to happen...

The ominous yellow of the clown's eyes started to slowly fade into a dull, pale blue, even paler than Bill's eyes... until the irises seemed to melt into the sclerae, the eyes slowly losing the light within them as the three large, blue Deadlights started to slow in their beats, the slowness mimicking that of a dying heartbeat... light fading into dark. Robert let out another yell of pain and Bill cried out when Mike yanked the fence back out of the clown's chest, blood spraying out of the clown's back.

Robert hesitantly pressed his hands to the spot, lowering himself to his knees and Bill whimpered, his eyes impossibly wide. He could _feel_ the pain Robert was in. He could feel the coldness of Robert's life slowly fading into nothing and he could hear the clown's heart rate slowing. Mike had struck him in the heart, which was slowly bleeding out, blood pooling on the front of the clown suit and Bill knew it was soaking the back too because of the triumphant look on Mike's face. Bill watched as drops of blood floated out of the wound, floating away.

The heart was the strongest muscle, in any living creature, but it was also the weakest. One good hit, which Mike got, could and would be fatal. Bill let out a strangled gasp, too shocked to even wipe the clown's blood from his face, horrified as he helplessly watched the white of the clown makeup slowly start to peel away from Robert's face, starting at his forehead and making its way down the clown's cheek. The makeup peeled away, floating away as it turned to ash. Mike was gasping for breath, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his eyes aglow with madness.

"Oh... no... no... no... no... no..." Bill whimpered, pressing his hands onto Robert's, almost as though he thought applying pressure would stop the bleeding, but he knew it wouldn't and his horror grew, his insides stirring something awful, as he watched blood seep past Robert's gloves and soil his own.

Blood dripped from Robert's lips before floating upwards. It was the clown's own blood, not the blood of his prey... Robert leaned himself against the last tall piece of rock, the very last rock, Bill noticed, and carefully maneuvered himself so that he was sitting down, his head and his shoulder propped against the rock. The clown chuckled grimly.

"Ow..." Robert said quietly before scowling slightly.

"Oh... God... Oh, God..." Bill whimpered, feeling every moment of this as Robert experienced it.

"God's not here today, Billy..." Robert murmured lowly.

Robert chuckled again, bitter and humorless.

"One last rock... one last Robert..." the clown muttered as his suit slowly started to crumple into ash and it slowly floated away.

Bill cried out, wrapping his arms around his stomach. It wasn't just Georgie stirring inside of him now and it wasn't her being a happy little light flickering inside of him. It wasn't just Bill who could feel this. It was like dozens of little voices were suddenly crying out, each one of them awake now, and they were screaming for their daddy, who's pain they could feel too. Tears streamed down Bill's cheeks as his mouth fell open, the boy crying out in pain. And Georgie, for such a happy little light, was screaming the loudest.

The Losers watched as this scene unfolded, four faces mirroring and expression of transfixed horror, and the fifth holding a triumphant, maddened gleam. It was a shock to hear that Pennywise, for the second time, was going to let them go even after everything. It was an even greater shock to see Mike pierce him through with the fence, in the back no less, after he said he'd let them go...

"Mike, what the fuck?!" Eddie yelled, surprised at Mike's actions and even more surprised that he was actually feeling _bad_ for what Mike had done.

"It's okay... it's okay... I did it... I killed him... I killed It..." Mike said, his eyes wide with the mad gleam.

"He was going to let us go! Again!" Ben yelled, also feeling bad.

Stabbing even Pennywise in the back like that... and the look of horror and despair on Bill's face was horrible... and they way he was clutching his stomach, clearly in pain... the scene was actually _upsetting_.

"No, no, no, no, he wasn't... It's okay," Mike said, believing his own words.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Mike!?" Richie yelled, feeling the same sort of shock, horror, and newfound guilt.

"Bill...?" Beverly whispered as she cautiously, almost hesitantly, approached the dying clown and Bill.

A gloved hand found its way to Bill's swollen belly, the palm resting on the curve and his fingers splayed across. Robert chuckled, paternal and happy. Almost peaceful.

Bill trembled as the little voices cried out, each one sounding surprised and _so scared_. Some cried out for him, others cried out for Bill, and others seemed to want to hide away, scared for themselves too.

"She still kicks me..." Robert said quietly as Bill felt the very tiny foot kicking him.

Bill whimpered, getting on his knees and pressing his forehead against the clown's shoulder. Robert pressed his lips to Bill's hair, eyelids fluttering.

"You be a good, Billy," Robert murmured.

He slowly faded away, his light turning to dark, his Deadlights fading away into the shadows, as his bloodied lips curved into a small smile, his eyes slowly closing as his physical form slowly turned to white ash that floated away into nothingness, the last rock crumpling into broken stones, collapsing into itself, and Bill started to sob, wails of agony bubbling in his chest before breaking free and for a moment, the Losers are sure they can hear dozens of babies crying out, screaming and crying, the sound distant but present. For a moment, Mike does feel bad but he knows, deep down, that he did the right thing.

"Bill, it's okay... it's okay... he's gone..." Mike whispered, inching towards Bill but his words only make the boy's wails grow in volume, the sound echoing in the chamber along with the sound of crying infants and Beverly sobs, actually regretting what just happened.

"Get away from him, Mike," Beverly said.

Mike blinked, surprised at her words, and he looked at her strangely.

"Drop the fence and get away from him," Beverly said through her sobs.

Mike blinked again, realizing he was still holding the fence, but then he felt angry.

"What? You think I'm just going to run Bill through?" Mike asked tartly.

Bill wailed, dropping to the ground, on his knees and arms, forehead pressed against the ground as he beat his fists on the earth, tears dripping to the cold stone.

He should be relieved, but he isn't. Robert had hurt him too, by taking Georgie and after the deal, but the latter wouldn't have happened if the Losers hadn't left him all those years ago... and who was Mike to come here and kill Robert after so many years? After ditching Bill and supposedly letting him become Robert's last meal? It's his own emotions, the damnable things, that are making him act this way. And it's amplified because of the female's light.

For an Alpha, it's horrible to lose an Omega because they feel like they've failed in their one duty of protecting them, even if the Omega can protect itself. Though, the female had been killed in the Ritual of Chud... so Robert had been an Alpha who knew how it felt to lose an Omega, even if she hadn't been his personally. The female's babies hadn't been his, but with the hive-like mind of the Deadlights, they might as well have been. The Deadlights were all like a spider's web. The Alphas were like the strings that held up the knots, and the knots were the Omegas that connected the strings.

For an Omega, it's horrible to lose an Alpha because then it made Bill feel so alone and feel even colder than the dead light inside of him. Even though he was full of little lights, he felt hollow. His own heart felt like Mike had rammed him through and killed him too. Robert hadn't been lying when he said his twin had been afraid to die... but Robert hadn't been afraid for himself, only for Bill and the unborn.

Georgie and her brothers and sisters, Alphas and Omegas alike, screamed inside of him. He knows why Mike thought he did the right thing, but it didn't _feel_ like the right thing for Bill. He knows he should hate Robert for everything he has done and all of the people he has killed... but having seen some bit of empathy from him... maybe it's something darker that Bill doesn't understand... and it's not love, he knows... it just hurts... horribly. An otherworldly _agony_ that he can't even begin to describe. He wants the clown back... He wants Robert. And his babies want their father.

Ben, Beverly, Eddie, and Richie all stared at Mike, all of them thinking the same thing. Surprisingly, all of them regret what just happened even though none of them were the ones to kill Pennywise. Bill's anguished wails, mixed with the distant sound of babies screaming, only made it worse.

"You just killed the interdimensional space monster that was actually going to let us go for the second time even though he really wanted to kill us... so, yeah, we think that," Eddie said quietly and Mike scoffed, tossing the fence to the side, watching as it clattered to the floor, and he put his hands up in surrender.

"Bill..." Beverly whispered, getting on her own knees next to him as his heart wrenching sobs shook his entire small body, his fists beating small craters into the floor. "It's okay... it's okay..." she whispered, carefully wrapping her arms around his small body, trying not to flinch as she felt his belly under her hand and trying not to whimper when she felt something, something she was sure was a very tiny _foot_ , kick her hand, and instead wrapped her arms around his chest to pull him away from the ground, trying not to flinch at how swollen his chest felt.

Bill turned his head, pressing his forehead against her neck and screaming into her shoulder, as Ben hesitantly approached, getting on his knees next to Beverly and wrapping one arm around Beverly's shoulder and the other around Bill's chest. Richie copied this, helping Eddie to limp towards them and they both got to their knees, Eddie hissing in pain even as he took hold of Bill's hand and Richie awkwardly put his on Bill's shoulder. Mike stood to the side, arms folded over his chest, only regretting what he'd done because it had hurt Bill, even if this was surely for the best, in Mike's mind.

Mike figured it had to be some sort of Stockholm Syndrome, or because of Bill being a Deadlight or maybe even both. And the _pregnancy_... but Pennywise had this coming for a long time, for millions of years. Mike could have run Bill through, but the thought hadn't even crossed his mind and even when it did, he couldn't see himself doing it. Mike knows he wouldn't have even though he did have the chance. Bill had stood in front of him, faced the clown for him, protected and defended him and the others even though they didn't deserve it. And Mike knew that Bill regretted killing Stan, but it was just another thing that had to be in the past.

"Just... go..." Bill begged, his body wracking with agonizing sobs.

"Bill..." Ben murmured, tears in his eyes.

"Just... just go... Tom's gone... he tried to come after you and Rob-- Pennywise... killed him..." Bill said, his voice hoarse, and Beverly let out a shocked, shaky breath. "Just... you'll all live happy, long, fulfilling lives... and have kids... just leave me alone..."

Everything felt so _wrong_ and so _empty_. Time ran differently in the other worlds, and that was why Robert hadn't known about his twin's death until his long rest, after the deal, but in such close proximity, when in the same world, Bill had felt _everything_. He felt the pain Robert had been in when Mike impaled him and when he'd yanked the fence back out... the fear for Bill and his unborn, but he'd known that the Losers wouldn't kill Bill. They _couldn't_ do it, so he'd known Bill would be safe... and for Robert, it was like going to sleep... but Bill didn't understand... why did he let Mike run him through? Why after everything?

"Bill... we left you 27 years ago, we aren't doing it again," Ben said quietly.

"I want you to..." Bill said quietly before giving a shaky, watery laugh. "And aren't you just a bunch of fucking assholes...? Wouldn't stay by me 27 years ago and now you won't leave me alone... hilarious... hysterical..." Bill choked on a sob. "Just go..."

"But... what will you do?" Richie asked hesitantly.

"The fuck do you care?" Bill spat and they all flinched guiltily, even Mike. "You got what you wanted... you killed Rob-- Pennywise... just... just fucking go..." he begged.

"We're not... we're not..." Beverly choked. "We're not leaving this time..." she said. "We're here for you--"

"I don't want you here..." Bill said quietly and that hurt, though they all knew they deserved it. "There's over a fucking dozen of them and once they realize you're still here... I won't want to stop them... I don't want any of you here... you aren't my friends..." Bill said and Beverly whimpered, the words slashing her heart like little, precise blades. "I don't want you here... you can either go now or be happy... or just fucking die..."

"Bev..." Ben said quietly, accepting that this was what Bill wanted. "C'mon..."

Bill tried his hardest not to scoff at that.

"No..." Beverly said quietly.

"Go away..." Bill murmured tearfully.

"We're not... we're not leaving you this time..." Beverly said quietly.

"Don't act like you're doing it for me," Bill said acidly and Beverly's lip quivered.

"Y-y-you're only doing it... f-for you... you feel guilty about what you did... that you did this to me..."Bill said quietly, though they knew he was getting angry. "Don't use me to make yourselves feel better... If... if you're actually s-s-sorry for what you did... you'll leave now and never come back."

His words hit right where it hurt. A hammer on the nail, the final one to seal the coffin shut.

"Just... just go... you... there's... there's so many..." Bill sniffled, closing his eyes as he kept crying. "A-a-and if I have to... I'll just leave... figure out how to go... someplace else... I just... I don't want you here again... if you actually regret what you did... to me... then you'll leave now... don't come back... You'll eventually forget... again."

"Bill..." Beverly whispered, her chest heaving with sobs.

"Bev... Bev... c'mon..." Richie said quietly as he helped Eddie stand, Ben getting to his feet, accepting that this was what Bill wanted them to do.

"No--" Beverly started.

"Bev... let's just go..." Eddie said quietly, also accepting that this was what Bill wanted.

"Please... just go..." Bill begged tearfully. "Get out and never come back..." he said, much more angrily.

Beverly felt hollow as Ben pulled her to her feet.

"Bill..." Beverly started but Bill cut her off.

"You're not my friends. I don't you here..." Bill said quietly, flinching as he felt another very tiny foot kicking him, but it wasn't Georgie's. "They don't want you here either..." he added before laying down on his side, the five of them flinching at the sight of his stomach.

Bill suddenly felt very sick, as though something was wrong _inside_.

"What about the unborn Deadlights?"

It was Mike who asked this question and Bill immediately understood why Georgie was stirring again, unhappily along with her brothers and sisters. It was an uncomfortable feeling. It wasn't the heart-melting, warm, comfortable feeling he'd felt when she had kicked at Robert's hand... and then he felt another stirring, another little girl, he knew. They were all stirring unhappily, angrily, as Mike approached... then another... then another...

It felt like little hornets or wasps were stinging him, but from the _inside_. But contrary to what Mike would think, it wasn't aggression. For themselves, it was protectiveness and it hurt Bill's heart to think that with Robert gone... the little ones, still inside, even now, were _protective_ over _him_. Like they were protecting _mommy_. They were little Alphas, Bill knew. That was why.

"Get away from me, Mike," Bill said, the pale blue of his eyes flickering to pale yellow.

"Mike, just let it go, man," Richie said quietly.

"He said it himself--" Mike said and Bill almost wished Richie had taken longer, long enough for Robert to kill Mike, because of those words.

Mike was honestly talking about Bill and then his babies like they weren't even there. Or like they were rabid animals that needed to be put down. Georgie and her sisters stirred angrily inside of him, feeling almost ready to burst out and attack and protect.

"-- there's over a dozen of them. Creatures like Pennywise. If we leave now, we're letting him bring more into this world. Killing Pennywise will be pointless," Mike said.

Yellow became red.

"Is that all I'm doing then, Mike?" Bill asked angrily, Georgie and her sisters buzzing like angry wasps inside of him. "Bringing more little _monsters_ into the world?" he spat and both Eddie and Richie flinched. "You think I wanted... wanted to be... _ra_ \--" he cut himself off and Beverly whimpered, all five of them knowing what he was going to say. "You're not my fucking friends. You're not important to me. They are... you either leave now and never come back, or I will fucking kill you."

Mike stared at him, his mind working fast. He knew Bill could kill all of them if he really wanted, and he knew they were pissing him off and most likely pissing off the Deadlights inside. That is, if they were currently aware--

"Oh, they're _aware_ , Mike," Bill spat. "And Roberta's getting mad--"

He stopped himself. Next to Georgie, was an angry little girl who was heartbroken that she, like her siblings, couldn't feel Robert's presence anymore. Bill wasn't even so sure why he called her that... other than the fact that in his mind's eye, she looked like a little baby version of Robert. Brown hair, bluish green eyes, though Bill had a feeling that if she was in a physical form right now, actually born into the world, she'd have angry red eyes... He hadn't even meant to name her...

And yet she stirred inside of him, almost as though she was trying to comfort him. Angry like Robert but still trying to comfort Bill... she was just like her father... and then they were all doing that... trying to comfort him... Bill quickly realized...

"You killed Rob-- Pennywise... you got what you wanted... they're not involved..." Bill said quietly, not wanting them here anymore.

"Mike... let it go," Ben said pleadingly.

Mike wanted to. He had gotten what he wanted and he would always remember that he was the one who killed Pennywise... the one of this world, the very last... and the monster's blood was on his hands... but...

"What will you do?" Beverly asked quietly.

"Leave... there's different worlds out there... they won't hurt anyone..." Bill said quietly and while Mike wanted to scoff at that, he knew Bill had a heart.

Adrian Mellon, Don Hagarty, Lisa Albrecht, and Victoria Fuller were evidence of that, but would he be able to handle over a dozen Deadlights?

"I can hear everything and you're pissing me off more than them, Mike," Bill said bitterly and Mike flinched. "I'll do what I have to... and if that means killing you all--" they all flinched. "-- after everything you've done to me... and trying to kill me even after I wanted you to go... then so be it..." Bill murmured, eyes burning. "But I don't want to hurt you... I don't want to do that to Myra..." Eddie sighed at that. "And enough people have died already... I don't want to hurt anyone else... just go..."

With a heavy heart, Ben led Beverly away as Richie helped Eddie limp to the entrance of the cavern, all of them noticing the eerie blue light that was now casting itself over the chamber. Pennywise's Deadlights were gone.

"Mike... c'mon..." Ben said quietly when Mike didn't turn to follow them.

"Bill..." Mike started, hesitantly approaching but Roberta and Georgie both lashed out.

Bill's eyes shot open, his face contorting into a snarl as his teeth sharpened. He snapped at Mike, who yelped and backed away. Beverly cried out, torn between concern for Mike and for Bill.

"Go away!" Bill snapped.

Mike stared at him... He couldn't change Bill's mind. He accepted this. He accepted that this was what Bill wanted... even though he didn't like the idea of more little creatures like Pennywise running around in this world, or another world.

"Should've thought of that 27 years ago, Mike," Bill said darkly, his teeth not dulling and shrinking back down.

He knew that wasn't very fair, because none of them had anticipated _this_. But Bill didn't care anymore. He just wanted his babies... he wanted Robert... and he wanted to be left alone...

"I'm sorry," Mike said quietly, more for Bill than Pennywise.

"Sure, Mike..." Bill said quietly, not looking like he believed it. "Prove it then..." he murmured before his face regained its human features, the boy laying back down and curling into a ball, arms wrapping around his middle.

"Okay... okay..." Mike said quietly, sighing before following the others.

The five of them hung their heads low, their hearts heavy in their chests although their stomachs felt quite hollow. The weight of fear had been lifted from their shoulders, but the guilt was infinitely worse. They hadn't avenged Bill's supposed death and nothing could fix what had actually happened to him.

"What about...?" Eddie started to ask, gesturing to the motionless body on the floor.

Ben sighed, letting go of Beverly and helping Mike to grab Stan. Ben put his arms under Stan's armpits while Mike grabbed onto his legs. They tried not to look at the torn throat as they carried him to the entrance, which opened up further, rocks sliding against each other, dust falling, to make space for them to go through. Each one knowing who's doing it was.

"Bill..." Beverly said, staring at the broken boy on the floor.

He made no response and he wasn't breathing. It was almost as though he was dead.

"I'm sorry..." Beverly said sincerely, for once not on instinct.

"So am I..." Bill said quietly.

"C'mon... Bev..." Ben said gently as he and Mike carried Stan through the entrance, Richie helping Eddie as Beverly kept staring at Bill, her heart feeling as though someone had stabbed her in it and was twisting the knife.

"Will..." Beverly sniffled, feeling like she was choking and she knew it was a stupid question but she couldn't help herself. "Will you be... okay?"

His voice was so small, so unsure and insecure when he answered.

"Sure... sure I will."

Beverly, heart aching, slowly followed Ben and the others out of the entrance. Each face no longer afraid, though the guilt quickly replaced it.

"I don't regret it..." Mike said quietly, referring only to Pennywise.

"Okay..." Ben said, accepting that.

It was hard leaving once again even if it was clearly what Bill had wanted. Harder was seeing that the hole that they had climbed down into was changed into a set of stairs for them to carry Stan up, the five of them knowing it was because of Bill. It was a brilliant, bright and sunny day on the outside of Neibolt.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Ben asked quietly as they laid Stan down on the yard, Ben flinching as he closed the man's eyelids.

Mike didn't answer. Nobody did. Was that it then? Were they just supposed to return to their normal lives? None of them had been truly happy like Pennywise had promised, save possibly for Stan and Patty, Myra and Eddie, but now Stan was gone. And what were they supposed to do? Just leave Stan here for somebody to find?

"The quarry?" Richie asked and they all stared at him.

After leaving an anonymous phone call for the police that a man was dead at Neibolt, possibly an animal attack, and giving apologies that they knew Stan would never hear but they were sure he'd understand, they found themselves at the quarry, stained with blood and dirt.

"It doesn't feel like we've really accomplished anything," Eddie said quietly.

"No..." Ben agreed. "No, it doesn't..."

Mike stared at the ground, thoughts swirling like tornadoes in his mind. He had done something good in killing Pennywise, hadn't he? But then again... the way Bill had talked about the unborn Deadlights was as though he saw them as another living creature, almost like another human being, and while Mike knew Bill was probably a bit bigoted towards them, he had spoke like he honestly loved them and would sooner kill them all in a very Pennywise-like manner than let Mike hurt a single one of them.

Though, he had mentioned that Mike was pissing them off and that they were fully aware... he even referred to one as _Roberta_ , who was getting mad. Mike wondered if that meant that without Bill's interference, the Deadlights, _Roberta_ , would probably come after him after they were born for killing their... _father_.

"He was evil," Beverly said, knowing what Mike was thinking and that he was questioning his actions. "He had done a lot of bad things to people... kids... us..." she said. "We don't know that he was going to keep his promise... I think if Bill--" they all flinched. "-- I think he'll keep them from hurting anyone."

"We don't know that, Bev," Ben said quietly.

Beverly just stared down at the quarry. Bill had let them go, even Mike, despite everything.

"Yeah," Beverly said. "I do know that."

She climbed over the fence as the others started to take off their shoes and Richie took off his jacket.

"Sure... clean off all the blood and dirt and gross shit with even dirtier water... that's just swell, Richie... that's just swell..." Eddie said unhappily, though he said this as he took off his own jacket, knowing he'd probably have to burn it or ditch it.

"It's better than nothing," Richie said.

"Not really," Eddie muttered.

Beverly jumped over first, feeling the air slapping her in the face and wondering if they had done the right thing. The five of them swam through the water, each heart heavier than the last, Mike now the worst instead of Stan. They cleaned themselves off, Eddie more reluctant until Richie threatened to dunk his head under the water. The depressing thing was that Eddie didn't even have the strength to tell them all of the risks they were currently posing by cleaning themselves in dirty water.

"Do..." Ben started quietly. "Do... do you guys think we did the right thing...?" he asked. "Leaving him alone like that?"

They were all silent.

"I mean... I trust him... but if there's so many... you think he'll be okay?" Ben asked.

Beverly sighed.

"He'll be alright," Richie said. "He's Bill..."

"Yeah..." Eddie agreed. "The best of all of us..."

"The biggest heart," Beverly said tearfully.

"The strongest," Mike added guiltily.

"We don't blame you, Mike," Ben said, catching the look on Mike's face.

"I just... I just thought it was the right thing, you know? In the moment... it just seemed like the right thing to do... I thought, if Pennywise was dead... everything would be okay..." Mike said quietly.

"Maybe it was for the best," Eddie said quietly. "I mean... for all we know, Pennywise would've just raised them to be a bunch of scary little man-eaters too..."

"Yeah, but it wasn't even his kid that attacked us. It was the creepy Annabelle rip-offs," Richie said.

"What?" Ben asked, confused.

"We... we, uh, got to see what one of Bill's kids is probably going to look like," Richie said awkwardly.

"A little female Pennywise..." Eddie added, just as awkward.

"Oh..." was all Ben could say.

"Roberta?" Mike asked hesitantly.

"No, uh... Georgie," Eddie said nervously.

"Oh..." Mike said quietly.

"I mean... that's worse than death... and there's nothing that can fix that... but... at least... Pennywise is gone... right?" Eddie asked hesitantly, unsure.

"Nothing makes what we did right... but we did what we went there to do and we did what Bill wanted. That's all that matters..." Ben said quietly.

He felt very strange to know that some other world's him was the one responsible for the deaths of unborn babies, even if they were Deadlights. The way Pennywise, with the face of Robert, had reacted, was so human, so empathetic and so emotional. Ben knew he wasn't personally responsible, but it sort of felt like he was. If that made sense.

Richie sighed.

"We left him to die... and he got something way fucking worse," he said.

"We're just going to have to let that go, man. There's nothing else we can do," Ben said quietly.

They stood in the water for the longest time, mourning Stan and Bill, regretting what they had done 27 years ago and regretting what had happened now.

"So, what are you guys going to do when you get home/" Richie asked, breaking the mournful silence.

"Home..." Beverly said, thinking about what life was going to be like now that Tom was gone.

Her eyes strayed to Ben, a small smile gracing her lips as he looked back at her, a small smile on his own lips.

"I'm going to shower in actually clean water... a lot... and probably get put into the emergency room by my wife," Eddie said quietly and Beverly and Ben laughed a little.

"I don't really know..." Mike said truthfully. "I've spent 27 years in Derry... I don't know where to go from here..."

"Well, if you ever need anything, you know you can call us, right?" Beverly asked.

"Yeah, just don't mention that we have to kill another monster because I don't think I can handle that," Richie said.

"Ditto," Eddie said, agreeing with Richie.

"Yeah..." Mike said, weighing his options carefully before quickly making up his mind. "Yeah..."

After a long time in the quarry, the five of them were walking through Derry, Beverly and Ben holding each others hands, though Beverly noticed the scar on her hand still lingered.

"Hey, guys..." she said, showing them her hand.

Mike looked down at his, then Richie and Eddie, and then Ben. Each one of them had the same jagged scar on their hand.

"Maybe it's because of Bill... so we don't forget..." Mike said quietly.

They all looked into the window of the shop across the street, seeing their young selves staring back at them. Stan was there, but Bill wasn't. The words said 'Derry is calling you' and they remembered the day they had left Bill in the sewers with Pennywise and had come back, each face guiltier and guiltier, Stan's the worst.

"I can't go home like this, guys," young Eddie had said quietly. "My mom will kill me."

"Dude, you've been gone for 24 straight hours. Your face is definitely on a milk carton by now," young Richie had said.

"Oh, shut up, Richie," young Beverly had said.

"Now what?" young Stan had asked, his eyes downcast.

His question silenced all of them.

"I mean... do we tell his parents? What happened? Or do we just go home and pretend we don't know?" Stan had asked.

"You think they'd believe us?" Richie had asked, disbelieving.

"I think we just... go home..." young Ben had said.

Heads hung low, they all pushed their bikes down the street, having left Bill's bike at Neibolt, and they just barely noticed the words _Nightmare on Elm Street 5_ on the movie theater's sign.

Mike sat alone in the library, thinking about what he was going to do now. It had been so long and he had nothing else outside of Derry. The others had left, Beverly leaving with Ben and Richie had apparently wanted to show Eddie something. They had made him promise to call if he ever needed anything, Richie making sure to add on the part about leaving out man-eating monsters, and he thought about Bill.

It was wrong, Mike knew, to have left him there, once again, and it was probably much more wrong to want to go back. He didn't want to push Bill any further and find out just what Roberta could do, or Georgie, and he knew it would risk the monster inside of Bill, and all the little monsters inside of him, lashing out and possibly killing him, but he couldn't think of leaving Derry.

They couldn't forget, either. The scars on their hands hadn't faded, which meant their memories wouldn't either. Mike's had never faded, because he had never left Derry and therefore he had never forgotten, but the scars on the others had yet to fade. He felt horrible, having to see, days later, on the news that Stanley Uris had been killed by a wild animal and Mike understood why Bill hadn't wanted to kill Eddie. It was for Myra's sake and he knew Bill would regret killing Stan because of Patty. That was how he knew Mike had a heart bigger than any Deadlight.

Bill didn't know Myra Kaspbrak, and Eddie had taken part in doing something unforgivable that subjected Bill to a fate worse than death and even if he did ever die, he wouldn't go to Heaven or even Hell. Only float in nothingness. But Bill was still able to forgive him, or at least was forgiving enough to let Eddie live and go back to his wife. Then again, it was really karma. The consequences to their actions.

Once again, they had to live with the guilt of what they had done to Bill. And now it was worse because they knew what Pennywise had really done to him, and had to live knowing that even though they killed Pennywise, they couldn't kill Bill and he would be bringing more Deadlights into the world. Over a dozen. Bill had to live with the memories and had to live, most likely, forever with his babies. Now, until their dying days, the Losers had to live with the memories of their childhood terrors, this nightmare they faced as adults, and the guilt of what they had done to Bill and even to Pennywise. It was karma. Mike sighed, his mind made up.

"Why are we at the kissing bridge?" Eddie asked, confused as Richie pulled up to the fence.

Richie swallowed, his heart beating oddly in his chest. He felt like he was thirteen years old all over again, damnable butterflies fluttering in his heart and belly.

"You remember how I said I got an actual token?" Richie asked hesitantly, wondering if this was a good idea.

"Yeah, and I told you it wouldn't burn fast enough," Eddie said, staring at the bridge where all kinds of names and hearts were carved into it.

"Well, obviously it was from the Capitol Theater. I was playing _Street Fighter_ with some kid, Connor or whatever, and I thought he was cool. You know. Blue eyes, blonde hair, liked the same fighting game I did. Not totally psychotic like his asshole cousin," Richie said and Eddie turned his head to stare at him, confused. "He was Bowers' little cousin and just as much of a prick."

"Ah," Eddie said, understanding.

"And I just thought he was cool, so I just wanted to play another game. Guess I acted to much like a fluttery, nervous _fairy_ for his tastes. He acted like I was coming onto him and made a scene of it so of course fucking Bowers was there and made it a bigger scene. I just thought he was cool and I wanted to hang out a little longer, but he acted like I thought he was my boyfriend and Bowers called me a faggot, embarrassing me in front of everybody in the Theater that day," Richie said. "C'mon."

Richie got out of the car, Eddie copying him and Richie showed him the old carving of R + E that he'd made 27 years ago. It was faded over slightly, but still clear enough to be able to read what it said.

"Being in Derry, homophobic shithole it was, was social suicide," Richie said.

"So, you've always liked guys? Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier? The guy with dates in Reno?" Eddie asked curiously.

"I was thirteen, puberty was an evil bitch, and you always had the funniest reactions. You're funny when you get pissy," Richie said, fully aware that Eddie was staring at him now.

A lump formed in his throat as Eddie sat down next to him. Richie hesitantly turned and saw that Eddie was staring at him expectantly. Realization punched him in the gut like Bowers' fist.

"You little fucker," Richie said, now realizing that Eddie always knew.

Eddie gave him a small, awkward smile.

"I'm not only knowledgeable in medical training and risk, Rich," Eddie said smugly.

Richie stared at him, knowing instantly that Eddie was full of shit.

"Beverly told you. Somehow she knew, and she fucking told you," Richie said, not asking.

"No," Eddie said, fake laughing and clearly lying.

Richie just kept staring at him.

"Yes," Eddie said, giving up.

"Ohmygod," Richie said, disbelieving.

"Well, I just now remembered that, alright? It's kind of hard to remember the more important stuff when you're worried about getting killed by a psychotic clown," Eddie said. "Especially when he wants to feed you to his babies," he added.

Eddie cleared his throat.

"It wasn't... you know... one-sided," he said awkwardly.

"It was your mom," Richie said knowingly.

"Yeah, and... AIDs was a big problem in the 80s," Eddie said.

"I fucking knew you were going to bring that up," Richie said, feeling relieved at being able to get that off his chest but also kind of annoyed. "First your mom, then it's your mom turned wife."

"Yeah..." Eddie said quietly. "Listen... maybe in some other world, some other life... there's a shot. It isn't no, but I love my wife. I just don't want to see you fade out of my life again, but I don't want this to get awkward."

Richie just smiled, his heart fluttering happily, fucking boyishly, in his chest.

"Same here," Richie said truthfully.

"You still got your pocket knife?" Eddie asked, looking at the R + E.

Richie pulled it out of his pocket. Eddie took it, flicking it open and carving into the R + E, and Richie didn't miss how careful he was when carving into it, clearly afraid of cutting himself. Then, to Richie's surprise, and the happiness of the butterflies, Eddie carefully carved a lopsided heart around the letters.

"Gay," Richie said, still smiling.

"Shut up, you like it," Eddie said, handing him back the knife but not before closing it.

"Yeah..." Richie said, smiling dorkily. "Yeah, I do."

"You sleep okay?" Ben asked Beverly as they sat together on his boat.

"Yeah," Beverly said, smiling as the wind swept through her hair, tickling her cheeks. "I had a beautiful dream," she said truthfully, the nightmares having faded away.

"What was it about?" Ben asked, petting his dog with a smile on his face as he bit into his apple.

Beverly stared into the sun, not afraid anymore.

"Babies," she said and Ben immediately choked on his apple, making the dog sniff him eagerly while she laughed.

It had been a beautiful dream. Little children, babies and toddlers, running and crawling about, each one with a happy little smile on its face. Boys and girls, some with brown hair, some with ginger hair, others with reddish hair, but they all had some blue in their eyes.

One baby in particular had the bluest eyes she had ever seen, just like Pennywise's when he was happy, and Beverly knew it had been a little girl. The baby had a head full of short but spiky, fluffy ginger hair, though it had looked a bit reddish like Bill's, and the shape of her face reminded her of Bill, and she'd had the cutest little button nose.

She'd had a sister. A little baby girl with dark brown hair and bluish green eyes that reminded Beverly of the Robert character, and her face had reminded her of Bill. She too had a cute little button nose.

They had all been so happy together, the babies, brothers and sisters, and she even remembered seeing a tall character picking up the ginger haired baby girl and her sister, kissing both on the cheek as they grinned happily. Beverly couldn't remember the character's face, but had known that he'd had the warmest, happiest, most paternal smile she'd ever seen.

Beverly blinked as her mind thought back to the dream, her smile turning into a small frown. It had been beautiful, with all those happy little babies and for once, no bloodshed and carnage, but the face kept coming back to her mind... it was blurry, almost foggy, like a memory you couldn't quite recall... why couldn't she remember that face? Beverly looked down at her hand, seeing that here scar was still there... but the scar wasn't the only thing that lingered, was it?

"Ben..." Beverly whispered, her eyes wide.

"Yeah... I'm okay..." Ben said quietly, coughing as the dog tried to steal his apple.

Beverly's breath shook before she settled herself. Bill was still alive, that was all that mattered.

"You okay?" Ben asked, catching the strange look on her face.

Beverly blinked before smiling genuinely. The guilt seemed to be lifted from her shoulders, finally, after so many years...

"Yeah," Beverly said, quite truthfully and not at all instinctively, deciding to let it go and thinking that if Bill was honestly, truly happy after everything, then so was she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I'm so sorry...  
> \- My own eyeballs got wet writing this...  
> \- Good? Bad? God, I hope this ending and the next chapter doesn't suck like Bill's endings...  
> \- Thanks to everyone who reads this story, leaves kudos and comments!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Figuring out this part was kind of difficult so I hope it doesn't suck but if it does, I can take it  
> \- One more chapter, I think, and then I'm probably going to focus on another Billwise related fanfiction and all ideas are welcome!  
> \- There's a scene in here taken from Freddy vs. Jason

Bill Denbrough was alone in the deepest part of the earth, in the dark heart underneath Derry, Maine, where millions of years ago, Robert, at the time a Deadlight with only his Alpha orientation, had struck.

The rocks where he had landed had stayed up, jagged and alive, but now they were smashed and crumbled, nothing more than broken stones that littered the floor. The old dirty house of Neibolt still stood, broken down and ragged as ever.

Bill had honestly never felt so lonely before, even though all of the little lights inside of him were currently fluttering and flickering. He hadn't felt this lonely even after the fight with his so called friends, so many years ago, and he hadn't felt this miserable even then.

And not even the little lights inside of him were very happy. They were just as sad as Bill and confused and it made Bill's heart feel as though someone had wrapped barbed wire around it, piercing and slicing, when he heard most of them still crying out for their father. Some of them were still confused as to where he had gone, while the others still refused to accept that he was.

What made Bill feel even worse was that the lights were dim, not at all bright and cheerful like they had been before Mike had pierced Robert's heart. They were alive, the little lights, but sad. Just like Bill. It had only been a few days since the Losers had come to kill Pennywise, though it felt like long, almost eternal years to Bill with how long they seemed to drag on.

It still stung worse to think that Robert had honestly been willing to let the Losers, all five of them, go for the second time and Mike had stabbed him in the back, literally. He chose to ignore that mercy, or torture, and took matters into his own hands. And yet it seemed to do much more harm than it did good, and Bill hated him for it.

The last Bill had seen and heard of Ben Hanscom and Beverly Marsh was that they were on Ben's boat, enjoying the sunset together. The last Bill had seen and heard of Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak was that the two of them were at the old kissing bridge, Eddie having added on to Richie's 27 year old carving with the promise that they would stay friends and would not lose contact this time, and then, as expected, Eddie was forcibly taken to the emergency room by his wife, the man smiling the entire time.

Bill actually thought it was kind of sweet that Richie and Eddie were able to hold onto their friendship despite the original awkwardness, and the hellish nightmares they had faced before coming to an understanding. And he found it sweet that Ben and Beverly were able to find happiness together. He envied them.

The last Bill had seen and heard of Mike Hanlon, he darkly promised Robert, would not be the last.

Mike had hurt him, deeply. Bill knew that hadn't been the man's intention, but Mike should have honestly known that it was going to happen either way. Bill knew that Robert had done many horrible, unforgivable things to countless people in Derry. He had killed people and those he didn't kill, were left wondering until their dying days what happened to their friends and family they had lost. Bill and his parents were included, but these facts didn't make losing Robert hurt any less. It was sick and twisted, Bill knew, but he missed him.

It was even sort of disturbing to think that he was more afraid of what life was going to be like for him without Robert. He didn't want that life. He wanted a life that had Robert in it, until the end of eternity, despite everything.

What Bill hated even more about Mike was that the man had the audacity, the sheer nerve, to talk about Bill and his unborn babies like they weren't even there or as though they were nothing more than mad, rabid animals that the Losers had to put down. That was how Mike had treated Robert, right before killing him.

Bill hated Mike the most now since Stan was dead. He hated Mike with every fiber of his own being and even the female's dead light. Worse still was that his babies hated him too. The bad man that took away their father.

Mike had known since Bill had killed those bashers that he was alive and when Bill had tormented them in the library, he'd had the balls to ask Bill for forgiveness and to help them kill Robert despite everything they had done to him. Robert had hurt him too, deeply and unforgivably, but Bill, and the Losers, all knew none of those things would have happened if not for their cowardice. That was why Stan had accepted death, accepted his fate.

Bill was currently lying on his back on a bed he'd manifested for himself, just barely getting the hang of reality shaping and wishing, more than anything, that Robert was here to teach him how to do it. He was supposed to teach Bill how to manifest objects, craft illusions, morph himself into different forms, travel between worlds, and do everything that a Deadlight could do. But he was gone now, and Bill was left to learn all of that on his own, another thought that terrified him.

He hadn't done much else besides lie in his bed, holding his stomach, for the past few days. He knew the 27 year long rest was coming, but he wanted more than anything to get back at Mike for what he had done. Give him all that he was owed. Bill supposed that this misery, this loneliness without Robert and the fear of the impending birth he'd have to face on his own, was what he deserved to, for killing Stan even though he had deserved it, even though Stan's death was a mercy compared to Bill's fate. From 27 years ago to this moment. With and without Robert.

Bill knew he could be very cruel too, perhaps even worse than Robert. If not for Mike, and the man knew this, then Stan wouldn't be dead and Patty Uris wouldn't be heartbroken and left with a grief that would last for years, maybe even her own dying day. And even though Bill knew it was sick, he couldn't help but think of Henry Bowers. Even though Bowers was an asshole in his youth, he really was just an abused boy who was just pushed too far. Beaten by his father and given a dark push by Pennywise.

The point was, Bowers was dead because of Mike too and Bill actually felt bad for him too. And the orderlies from Juniper Hill were dead too, because of Pennywise but also because of Mike. And Patty Uris and the rest of Stan's family were suffering because of Mike.

Stan, Bowers, and the orderlies needn't have died. If Mike had not called the Losers back to Derry, then Stan wouldn't have died so gruesomely. And even though it was selfish, Bill wouldn't have that blood on his hands too. Robert wouldn't have summoned Bowers had he thought he wouldn't need to, therefore the orderlies wouldn't have been brutally murdered and in the long run, Stan wouldn't have been died sooner than he actually would have.

Bill knew Mike would most likely try to say that he could do good with these powers because he, Bill Denbrough, was a good person despite everything, but Bill knew that wasn't true. He may have saved Adrian Mellon and Don Hagarty, Lisa Albrecht and Victoria Fuller, but he had still killed people, even if they had deserved it more. It was still lives that were not Bill's to take, no matter how hungry he had been. And Dean, only twelve years old, certainly didn't deserve to die.

Mike wouldn't exactly be wrong about Bill being able to do good things for people, maybe make Derry a better place, and only hurt the bad people of this cold, cruel, and lonely world, but he had killed Dean and Stan.

Stan had deserved it, because in the end it was entirely his fault, everything that had happened to Bill and even Dean, but that didn't mean Bill didn't feel bad for it. It was mostly because of Stan's wife, now a widow, and Bill rather hated empathy.

It was the same as Robert. He had killed Georgie, but after the 27 year long rest, he knew how it felt to lose a younger sibling. To be alone. Bill didn't expect him to feel bad for killing Georgie, but he'd known some part of the clown had felt empathy. It wasn't very fair, since Robert had killed Georgie, hurting Bill, and Bill had killed Stan, hurting Patty, but that was just the way it was now.

He knew it was disturbed, comparing losing Robert to Patty losing Stan, since he was responsible for Stan's death, but he couldn't help it. He'd known, the moment she'd gotten the phone call, she'd let out a sound, a screaming wail, that could be described in a multitude of horrific ways. It would haunt everyone who heard it, herself most of all, for the rest of their lives. Bill included. It was part of why Bill couldn't bring himself to kill Eddie or even to have Robert do it.

But he wanted Mike dead too, or at least Bill wanted him to suffer more than just the scar on his hand followed by the memories. The scars on the Losers' hands hadn't faded because Bill was still alive and he wanted them to remember, but it wasn't enough. He didn't want Mike as a last meal before he went into the 27 year long sleep, he just wanted Mike to pay. Mike wasn't his friend and making him suffer through even worse nightmares, including Stan and even Bowers and even the dead orderlies, sounded really appealing even though Bill knew it was wrong and unfair.

Mike had been tormented by Pennywise too, for years. He hadn't forgotten because he'd never left. But that didn't change how Bill had felt. Mike might have thought he was doing the right thing, but that's not how Bill saw it. Nor did his babies.

" _For such a big, forgiving heart, you really are a mean little shit._ "

Bill's lip quivered and he let out a pained cry when his insides suddenly feel as though they're tightening, squeezing and clenching, twisting and turning as his heart pounds. He can picture Robert saying those words to him now, the clown having been rather impressed with Bill's cruel thoughts that the Losers would suffer more if they were left alive and had to live with the memories that they couldn't kill Pennywise and even when they did, it did more harm than good, and what they had done to Bill was even worse than they originally thought.

Not only that, but they didn't deserve the mercy Bill gave them after everything. That they were the reason Bill didn't get to live a fulfilling, happy life or even get to die and maybe go to a better place. Instead, because of them, he was left to rot underneath Derry for the rest of eternity. And because of Mike, he was without Robert.

Bill knows that he should feel relieved that Robert is gone, perhaps even grateful for Mike's actions, but he just can't, Mike had deliberately killed the father of Bill's babies and had honestly tried to make amends after every horrible, inexcusable thing they had done to him and caused him to suffer. The six of them not _meaning_ for Bill to suffer a fate worse than death was a hollow excuse.

What made Bill even angrier, or at least sadder, was that they had honestly felt guilty about what they had done. It made him angry because they hadn't felt very guilty when they had done it, not enough to actually help him and fight the clown alongside him, a scenario in which they would have won. And it made him angrier because they had felt guilty 27 years later and they felt even worse now knowing what their actions had actually caused. They had robbed Bill of a fulfilling life as an author, even if his endings in this world probably would've sucked, with a beautiful wife and maybe, just maybe, after they would have beaten Pennywise for the second and final time, children.

Bill closed his eyes as he rested his hands on his swollen stomach. What he hates more is that he's forever trapped in the body of a thirteen year old boy and he looks as though he's six months pregnant with quadruplets, and his breasts are already swollen and filling with milk. To put it simply, Bill is already huge with the large number of lights inside of him, and he knows he's going to get bigger as they grow. What was more upsetting too was that Robert had wanted _more_.

There had been so few Deadlights to start with. Three Alphas, at least, and two Omegas, from what Bill had seen in Robert's memories, and Robert had wanted more and more. He'd wanted hundreds, maybe thousands, and he'd had all eternity to keep going. The saddest thing was, Bill wouldn't have wanted to stop him. These little lights inside of him made him happy, because they were his too, and he loved them and he would've killed Mike in a heartbeat, with or without Georgie and Roberta's help, if he thought Mike was going to ram him through too and hurt his babies.

The entire situation was messed up, beyond comprehension, but that was just the way things were. He just wanted Robert back.

The scariest part for him now is that he knows either just before the start of the next 27 year long sleep, or possibly after he wakes up from it, he is going to give birth. He is scared and Georgie kicks his hand, but it's more sad than it is protective or playful. She misses her father, they all do, and they're scared without him too.

That was another reason why Bill hated Mike so much more now. Mike had scared them, his babies, though they weren't even born yet, and had even upset and angered them to the point where they were willing to lash out, thinking that they were protecting Bill.

" _They're just like their daddy in that aspect_."

Bill cried out in pain when he felt all of the little feet, not just Georgie's, kicking him when he thought of Robert saying those words. Though it doesn't actually feel as though he's thinking them, rather it's like they're thoughts coming to his mind against his will. It feels like when Robert would talk to him through telepathy, the hive-like mind of the Deadlights.

The teen sniffled, his eyes stinging as they glass over. He knows he should hate the clown for everything he has done, to Georgie, to the Losers even if he hated them now, to everyone he's killed in Derry, and to Bill, but he just can't. Worst of all, he should hate the clown for killing Georgie, stealing Bill's virginity, keeping him around for a little longer, and then making him into a monster, impregnating him, and maybe the worst of all, even worse than killing Georgie, making Bill _care_ about him.

He should hate him, but he doesn't. He just can't and it's not because of the dead light inside of him, though it doesn't help, the Omega crying out for the lost Alpha. Bill just misses him even though he knows he shouldn't. Robert wasn't evil, as Beverly had said, rather he was just another creature, another living thing, trying to survive in a cold, cruel, and lonely world.

Bill understood what Robert had meant when he said that Deadlights weren't the worst things in this world, the next world, or another world. There might be all kinds of monsters in all the worlds in the Macroverse and even farther out than that, man eaters and soul consumers, things of nightmares and literal spawns from Hell, but the absolute worst monster of them all wasn't even the kind that ate humans to keep itself going, like Deadlights or even the bats from Hell, but rather, humans themselves.

Robert had his flaws, as all creatures did, but he wasn't evil. Bill didn't disagree with Robert's opinion that humans were the nastiest, most evil creatures in this world and the next world and even another world. Those bashers, Victoria's mom, Richard Macklin, and so many others in Derry alone, from all the worlds, were evidence of that. There were more, but Bill didn't want to think about that anymore. Because then he'd just go back to thinking about Bowers and his father, and then the Losers and even his own parents.

Bill knew it was wrong, but he missed Robert so much. Georgie kicked again as all of her siblings flickered and fluttered, most of them going to sleep now. Bill knew it would be Georgie that would come out first, most likely before this cycle ended.

" _She's very impatient, Billy._ "

Bill clenched his teeth, his heart hurting, as he hears Robert's voice cooing in his ear, tender and loving, paternal and comforting. Bill cried, tears streaming down his temples and it _hurts_. When Mike had pierced Robert through, it felt like he had killed Bill too. When Robert's presence had left this earth, it felt like someone had torn Bill's own heart out and squeezed it until it burst and bled. Only, he didn't get to stop feeling that pain like Robert's twin and the other clown. He had to live with that pain for the rest of eternity.

Some part of him wants to sleep and maybe never even bother to wake up again, but he can't do that because he loves the little lights inside of him too much. They needed him.

" _Just go to sleep, Billy_."

Bill sniffled again, shaking with how Robert's voice echoes in his head, as though the clown is right next to his ear. His eyelids flutter before he feels himself floating away. He knows this isn't the 27 year long sleep, but it feels quite close.

It feels kind of nice, almost as though he's letting go of a weight that's pulling him down, as Georgie and Roberta and all of their siblings that Bill still has to find names for fall asleep too, lulled by the idea of pleasant dreams. As Bill falls asleep, he's quite certain he can feel a hand on his head, cold fingers running over his hair as upbeat carnival music plays in the background.

Bill knows he's dreaming when he opens his eyes. He knows that his physical body is still deep under the earth, sound asleep and rather vulnerable should Mike decide to come back.

Bill blinked, finding himself in a rather interesting place. It looks like Neibolt but it's cleaner, less broken down. The windows aren't cracked and shattered, the curtains aren't torn, shredded, and stained, and it looks like a newly built, perfectly constructed house. He's in the living room, though he's still laying on the same bed he'd manifested in the conscious world.

The walls are painted a happy blue that reminds him of Pennywise's eyes. There are little pictures taped to the wall of happy little characters all together, and one in particular makes his heart ache in his chest.

A colorful drawing, definitely from crayon, of two clowns, Bill and Robert, he can tell from the colors, and they're each holding the hand of a little baby in the middle. They're smiling, all three of them, and next to the two clowns are more little babies, each dressed in happy, colorful clown suits. Arrows point down to their heads, names written above them.

 _Daddy_ , above Robert's head. _Mommy_ , above Bill's. Georgie is the baby in the middle, though Bill supposed he should've guessed that from the ginger hair. And then there's Roberta, the brunette holding onto Bill's other hand. The other babies have arrows, but not yet names. Bill feels the tears falling.

There are stickers adorning the walls with the happy pictures of even happier clowns. Butterflies, various shades of blue and pink, and even green turtles and little spiders. Baby toys litter the floor, mostly stuffed animals of spiders and turtles, pinks and blues, but there's rattles, brightly colored and patterned, a few even having clown heads on them and Bill swears he can see one of the Joker, and there's all kinds of plush toys and even puppets of all kinds of clowns.

Bill recognizes Robert and Pennywise first, one having dark hair and a handsome face and the other having ginger hair and a bulbous, cracked head, both of their eyes a bright, cheerful blue rather than ominous yellow and angry red. Next to the Robert is a little puppet that looks just like Bill, wearing the same brightly colored jumpsuit Bill was currently wearing.

Next to the Pennywise puppet is a clown wearing the very same jumpsuit, though its hair is red and longer, with a rather bulbous forehead. He's smiling too and weirdly, Bill thinks of the room Richie had been in 27 years ago... he can briefly remember seeing this clown in that room.

Beside the red haired clown in the jumpsuit is another that Bill knows immediately is supposed to be the female, even though the clown itself is a male character. But rather than menacing, she looks sweet and delightful. _Motherly_. And lastly, next to the female is a puppet that looks like the clown he saw in Robert's memories, from that facility that had been destroyed... they all look so happy and cheerful, not at all menacing and as dangerous as Bill knew each clown had been... like one big happy family...

Bill whimpered, the barbed wire feeling as though it was tightening around his heart. He wanted Robert back. Reaching out for him, trying to find him, was like reaching into a black hole, finding nothing. Though now, strange images came to Bill's thoughts. He could see nothing but bright light in his mind, but amidst the brightness, the seemingly never ending light that was Deadlight's death, was a hand. A single hand, reaching back for him.

Bill's breath shuddered and he stiffened when he feels a hand touching his head, fingers brushing over his hair. He blinked, looking up to see Robert's face looking right back at him, the clown smiling a warm smile.

His first instinct, naturally, is to think that it's nothing more than an illusion, either one he'd accidentally manifested himself or maybe the unborn did this... thinking that this was how they could get daddy back... or it was just a dream. Nothing more and nothing less.

Bill stared up at Robert, taking in his features. The clown's face is still painted white, wearing red lipstick and the familiar red lines run from the corners of his mouth up his cheeks and stop on his forehead. However, Bill noticed that there were bags under his eyes, and his face looks sunken in, still handsome but clearly tired, as though he's gone for days, maybe even a week, without proper sleep. Bill looked closer and realizes he can see right through him, as though he isn't even there, but rather he's a projection.

"Well, I couldn't exactly project myself on the wall, Billy," Robert said, smiling softly even though his voice sounds hoarse, almost exhaused.

"But--" Bill gasped as the Deadlights inside of him suddenly start to bubble and flutter happily, each one of them clearly sharing this dream, and he can hear the happy little sounds of babies laughing, others crying happily, and the rest making happy little noises.

Robert laid next to him, the bed the only thing staying the same from the real world to this surprisingly delightful dream, and Bill sees that the clown has the same body of the man he killed long ago, but he's naked. As though manifesting the suit would have been an exhausting chore. Not only that, but there's a jagged, red wound on his breast, right where his heart was meant to be.

Bill lifted a shaking hand, hesitant and wary, as though waiting to wake up from this dream and realize that's all it was. Nothing more than his mind wanting Robert back and deluding himself into thinking that the clown was still alive... his gloves aren't even stained with Robert's blood anymore and he touches his fingers to the spot. Robert hisses in pain and Bill nearly recoils, until he realizes he's actually touching cold flesh.

He presses his hand to the spot, palm resting against the wound as his fingers splay over the flesh. Underneath his hand, he can feel and even hear the unmistakable heartbeat.

 _A dream, but real_ , a voice in Bill's head tells him. Robert's voice.

Bill doesn't understand.

"I- I- I felt..." Bill whimpered, not understanding.

This had to be an illusion from his dream. It _couldn't_ be real... He'd seen the piece of fence sticking out of Robert's chest, having pierced him in the back and popped out the front, stabbing him into the heart and then being ripped right back out. Bill had felt every moment of that and had heard it as Robert's heartbeat slowed, the slowness becoming that of a dying heartbeat before it stopped beating altogether. It had to be an illusion...

"Well, technically it is. I'm sleeping, same as you. You know, we can get forced into early hibernation," Robert said, smiling knowingly and Bill let out a shuddering breath.

The Ritual of Chud, as Mike had said, _was_ a battle of wills. The female, when fighting the Losers of her world, had been hurt significantly, nearly killed. _Nearly_. She had been forced into an early hibernation because of how badly it had hurt her. It wasn't until the _second_ ritual that she had died and her being had actually stayed dead, her light returning to the Deadlights.

It was the same to be said about the clown before Robert, who had been forced into a drain by another world's set of Losers during their adolescence after being struck in the head by solid silver and then years later, his heart had been torn out after their second fight.

Robert's own twin had been beaten by his world's set of Losers and 27 years later, he'd had his heart torn out of his body and it was crushed in their hands... Bill stared up at Robert, his eyes impossibly wide.

The reason the other clown had been killed was because the gods of that world had been angered, their rage enough to destroy everything in that world. Bill didn't know for certain whether or not that clown had faced anything before that moment, but it must have if it was able to be captured and placed in the facility... a weakened state after some first fight, a battle of wills, and killed the second time. Only after the second time...

The Ritual of Chud _was_ a battle of wills, but creatures not of the earth, such as the Deadlights, were able to face it at least once, their will equal if not greater than a human will, before it would kill them the second time, assuming they lost. Robert had only faced Mike's will once... he had another left in him... and since after the next sleep, the Losers would be too old to stop him... Robert was _alive_...

Bill let out a soft cry before he started to sob as the lights inside of him buzzed happily, proving that the creature in front of him really was Robert. _His_ Robert. A projection but _alive_ , not an illusion and dead. He knows it's still wrong, but he's _relieved_. Bill is _happy_. But he doesn't understand...

"Why... why didn't... why w-w-wouldn't... you could've stopped him..." Bill said, feeling hurt but _relieved_.

He's not scared anymore, but he doesn't understand why Robert would have let Mike nearly kill him... Robert hummed softly, still running his fingers, not even gloved, through Bill's hair and Bill can't help but lean his head into the touch.

"I wanted to, oh, believe me, I did. I still do. But I can't," Robert said and Bill kept staring, confused. "' _Actions deserve consequences_ '. You know I killed the other Losers of those worlds, Billy. All of them," Robert said, smiling at him. "They wouldn't have hurt you, not even Mikey. We both knew that."

Bill frowned. He knew, somehow, that Robert wasn't referring to himself and Bill. He was referring to himself and... someone else. Some _thing_ else.

"But..." Bill doesn't understand.

"It doesn't matter, Billy. I'm not leaving. I know it wasn't very fair to you, or to them--" Robert said as he placed his other hand on Bill's belly and Bill jumps at how eagerly they all kick, Georgie and Roberta the hardest, "-- but it was just something that had to happen. It might sound like an unfair thing, but it was either getting stabbed or losing all of you."

Bill's frown deepened. That sounded even more unfair.

"You... I thought you were--" Bill stopped himself, almost choking on his sob as the tears keep streaming, his heart clenching painfully in his chest.

Robert pressed his lips to Bill's hair, smiling softly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Bill couldn't stop himself. He started to cry and then sob, the barbed wire uncurling itself from around his heart. He hesitantly grabs for the clown and cries out when he feels the coldness of flesh even through the glove, the heart beating slowly but steadily. The heartbeat of a sleeping creature. He laid his head on Robert's chest and _wailed_. He's both relieved and upset, almost disturbed, in ways he can't even begin to describe.

He feels hurt at being kept in the dark like that, and even though he doesn't like it, he understands why some creature, bigger than Robert, would want that. Basically, that was Robert's punishment for killing the other worlds' Losers. For causing an imbalance like that in the Macroverse, Bill understands. It's not very fair, but Bill understands it though he certainly doesn't like it. Robert chuckled.

"How do you think I felt?" the clown murmured.

"I thought..." Bill said quietly, his emotions a whirlwind of torment.

"I'm not going anywhere," Robert said gently.

Bill knew it was true. He guessed it was evened out now, and if Robert said he wasn't leaving, then he wasn't leaving. Bill knew that. Another hit like that... another battle of wills, though Robert didn't fight back... and the clown _would_ be gone... Bill knew it was wrong, to feel relieved and happy, but he can't not feel that way. He hates Mike, but he can take a dark satisfaction in knowing that Mike failed. And 27 years from now, when Robert would awake, injured but alive, they would be too old to face him.

Bill let out an wrenching sob, his heart hurting as Robert wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him close.

"You're alright, Billy..." Robert cooed in his ear, still running his fingers over Bill's hair.

Bill doesn't _feel_ alright. Bill can honestly say he feels the same sort of pain all of the previous had felt when they faced their first battles, and then when they died. Robert included.

He feels like the female, having been beaten in two rituals before her entire being that made her a sentient creature had been torn apart. Her life force torn away from her dead light. The clown before Robert, having been hit by solid silver, one of many weaknesses to monsters, and forced into an early hibernation before having his heart torn out. He feels like Robert's twin, having been beaten and then having his own heart torn out and crushed... he even feels as though some other world's gods have made him a casualty in their fit of rage.

He even feels like Robert, knowing this one most intimately, having been stabbed in the heart. He felt this one the most, because he had been in the same world, the very same place, as Robert... he'd even felt the coldness...

Bill stared up at the clown, his eyes glassy and pink, tears staining his cheeks. He understands why Robert had accepted it, same as Stan. Robert had known he would have what he wanted either way, and what a kick to the teeth for Mike to actually feel _bad_ for killing the clown. Or at least he _thought_ he did.

But it was really self-preservation. He wasn't one the Twelve, and there was a being superior to even him... and Bill supposed it was better to lose one battle of wills, not that Robert fought and Bill understood that was why it honestly felt like he had died, than lose your entire existence... but he wanted them to be left alone...

"That was the deal," Robert said softly. "And I don't get to kill these Losers. They get their happily ever afters, and Audra's in there too," Robert said, but there was a gleam in his eyes.

Bill understood.

"You... _you_ don't get to kill or torture them either, do you?" Bill asked quietly.

"No, _I_ don't," Robert said, smiling knowingly.

Bill stared up at him, his mind made up. He didn't really want to, knowing that Robert was alive... but he knew this was what Robert wanted.

"Wouldn't it hurt him more... feeling guilty for thinking he killed you?" Bill asked, trying to get out of it even though the dead light inside of him, and his own self, _really_ wanted to.

"Nice try, and maybe so. But maybe it'd hurt more if he knew he tried with everything he had, and still couldn't. And now, he'll never get another chance. Wouldn't you agree, Billy?" Robert said before grinning a wicked grin. "And not only that, but I don't have to be awake to keep you..." his hand brushed over Bill's belly, the boy trembling at the promise of _**more**_. " _full_..."

**********

Mike sniffled as he stared at his hands. At the moment, he's staying in an old motel in Derry, right before the outskirts. He's torn between leaving and seeing what the world had to offer him and going back to the sewer and trying to talk to Bill. He doesn't know what he could say and he knows Bill doesn't really want to hear it, but the can't stop himself from thinking about all those Deadlights... He knows he has no right to be sticking himself back into Bill's business, and he knows it's his own fault if anything happens to Bill... but he can't stop thinking about it.

He sighed as he shut the bathroom mirror, then jumped when he sees the Robert character grinning at him from inside the mirror, as though the clown is standing right behind him. He quickly turned around to see no one there. He blinked and sucked in a breath, his heart hammering in his chest... He's killed Robert... he knows he has... so why...

Bill...

"Bill?" Mike called out, hesitant.

He knows Bill has every right to be angry with him... but not even Bill would go this far... right? Unless... the Deadlights had been born... and Bill _couldn't_ control them...

Mike looked around the bathroom, seeing no one there. He looked back into the mirror. He hasn't slept in days, too worried about what he would say to Bill and wondering if he had done the right thing... of course, Bill would be angry with him and had every right to be... Mike hadn't stood by him 27 years ago either, and had killed the clown... Unless...

Mike whimpered. What if it wasn't Bill... but the clown himself? Was he wrong? In thinking he had killed Pennywise? He closed his eyes, replaying that moment in his head. The clown, Robert, hadn't fought back... hadn't even _tried_. Either Mike missed his heart, though he doubted it and he didn't think Bill was that good of an actor, because that reaction had seemed pretty damn real... or Robert had tricked all of them, even Bill, to make it seem more real...

Mike turned around, a hand on his face, when he hears gurgling behind him. He hesitantly opened his eyes and whimpered at the sight of the small bathtub filled with blood that's overflowing. A body rises out of the blood. But Mike doesn't recognize him. He's got dark hair, or it's dark because it's wet, and pale blue eyes.

"Hey, Mike," the man says, smiling. "You didn't forget about me this time did you?"

"Oh, God," Mike whispered, understanding who this man was supposed to be.

"Oh, that's right! Everyone forgot! Then you called them all back and you're just a big fucking liar, aren't you!?" the man, the man Bill would have grown up to be, yelled at him.

Mike whimpered, feeling his gut clenching painfully. He hadn't _wanted_ to lie to the others but he knew none of them were ready, Stan especially.

"We're never ready for these kinds of things, are we?"

Mike trembled as the man was pulled under the blood, Stan instead rising out of it.

"Except for me, I guess," Stan said, smiling darkly.

He was completely naked, his throat torn open, a gaping hole revealing the bones inside and his torn jugular.

"I didn't... Bill... please..." Mike begged, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I mean, I'm dead, cause of you," Stan said and that hurt because Mike didn't _mean_ for it to happen.

"I didn't--" Mike started.

"Didn't mean to leave Bill to die! Didn't mean to find out he's alive! Didn't mean to find out he's a monster! Didn't mean to find out he's a _pregnant_ monster!" Stan shouted, but it was Bill's voice, that of a young boy, coming out of his mouth.

Mike flinched, the guilt stabbing his insides like needles as his stomach clenched.

"Didn't mean to piss him off the library! Didn't mean to kill Robert!" Stan, with Bill's voice, yelled as he lifted his hands out of the tub, revealing slit wrists that sprayed blood all over the wall and the floor.

Mike stumbled, nearly slipping, when he felt the blood touching his feet. He gripped the sink behind him, his chest heaving as his legs turned to lead, his blood running cold.

"Didn't mean to lie! Didn't mean to get Stan killed! Ya know the worst of it all, Mikey? Think about everybody else!" Stan, in Bill's voice, screamed at him. "Patty Uris--" he flinched at that. "And you got Bowers killed too, and those orderlies he murdered to get out! Robert wouldn't have summoned him if not for you!"

Mike felt tears streaming down his cheeks. That wasn't his intention.

"Never fucking is, right, Mike!?" Stan, with Bill's voice, roared at him, a monstrous screech under his words.

Mike watched as Stan's body sunk under the bloodied water, only for the Robert character to come up. Only, he wasn't wearing a clown's suit, only his face painted like a clown's, and there was a large red wound on his breast, right where Mike had pierced him through.

"You couldn't even kill me," Robert said, grinning wickedly despite his tired features.

Mike cried out, his heart almost popping out of his chest, when he heard rapid footsteps on the ceiling. Looking up, he saw Bill in his clown suit staring down at him, the boy walking on the ceiling. And he knew it was Bill too, because the eyes were pale blue, but not that of a corpse. An illusion's reveal.

"Bill... please... I just wanted--"

"Oh, you just wanted, you just wanted," Bill spat, eyes flickering to pale yellow. "Wanted what, Mike? To kill Pennywise? Save Derry? Kill me and my babies?"

"No!" Mike yelled.

"I'll tell you a secret, Mike," Bill said, walking up to Mike until he was level with the man's head. "I don't wanna kill you."

Mike knew better than to feel relief. There were fates much worse than death. Bill knew that more than anyone.

"Bill, I--" words escaped him.

He really didn't know what to say. There was no forgiveness for what he had done to Bill 27 years ago, and he didn't deserve to live... he knew that... and how would the others feel, in knowing that Mike couldn't kill Pennywise?

"Probably really fucking pissed, Mike," Bill said. "You got Stan killed for nothing. And don't throw in the whole, none of you live another twenty years," Bill smiled, but it wasn't happy or humored, nor was it sinister and dark. Not even smug. Just bitter. "You'll all live another 27 years, happy, happy, happy," Bill said, the yellow flickering to red.

"Bill..." Mike started but Bill glared at him, silencing him.

"I don't have to kill you to torture you, Mike. I don't have to kill you to do anything, other than send a message. Get out of Derry," Bill said, in Bowers' voice. "Get out of Derry and stay out."

Mike found it hard to breath, finding it difficult to even swallow. A lump formed in his throat as his eyes burned with tears.

"No," Mike said.

"NO!?" Bill yelled, getting in his face.

"I won't do it," Mike said, sounding braver than he actually felt.

He felt small, weak and scared. Especially as the body of Henry Bowers, with the hatchet still lodged deep into his skull, rose from the bloodied bathtub, knife gleaming in his hand as he grinned nastily. After him rose the bodies of two men Mike didn't recognize, but he knew they were orderlies from Juniper Hill...

Bill smiled, bitter and humorless.

"Guess I'll have to send the message myself then."

**********

Beverly woke with a start, screaming as she thrashed around.

"Bev! Bev! Bev!"

Ben's voice was distant. She kept screaming and she knew she wasn't the only one. There were two others who were currently screaming, in terror and agony, guilt and horror. The person who's pain she was currently feeling, and somewhere, miles away, Richie was screaming too.

She could feel every moment of it as though it was happening to her instead. As though she was reliving her nightmares in the Deadlights. But rather she was experiencing a pain and terror, nightmare fuel, that was presently happening. She could feel claws, sharp and jagged, scratching and tearing at her flesh, slashing her back open. She could feel her heart racing, miles and miles, faster and faster, nearly bursting from her chest, as she kept screaming. She would swear it felt like she was being thrown around like a ragdoll, tossed and beaten. It felt like a pack of wolves were tearing at her flesh. She knew when it was over, because she fell back to the bed, her breath shuddering, as she stared up at the ceiling, drenched in a cold sweat that was icy.

"Bev, Bev, hey," Ben patted her on the cheek, his eyes wide with worry.

He was worried for Beverly, and about why she had such a horrible nightmare...

"Mike..." Beverly said, her eyes burning with tears.

He wasn't dead, she knew that. But she could see the word, written in blood all over the walls, as though she was in the bathroom Mike was currently in. It was only one word, but it was repeated, each tile on the floor and the wall painted with the single word. It wasn't just about Bill, she knew. Or even just Pennywise, or Robert. Not even just Georgie and Roberta and the others... there was going to be **_more_**...

 _ **IT**_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Revenge, thy name is Robert  
> \- Good? Bad? One more chapter ;)  
> \- Special thanks to everyone who read this story, starting from chapter one to this chapter, and to the end... God, I hope this chapter doesn't suck lol


	21. Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The final chapter, I'm going to miss this story  
> \- Very special thanks to all the people who have commented and have left kudos and bothered to read this story and hopefully, you'll read the next one whenever it comes out!  
> \- Also, Anna, from your comment in Chapter 3, I kind of borrowed the idea  
> \- Also, I hope the tags are right

Bill's fingers trailed over the wound on Robert's chest as he listened to the slow, rhythmic sound of the clown's heartbeat. It was slower than it should have been, he knew, but it was still there and to Bill, that was all that mattered. Robert was still sleeping, as Bill would be soon enough, but he was able to project himself here in his nest. He was translucent and still nude, but Bill was just happy he was there and would stay.

After leaving behind one last message to Mike, as well as Beverly and Richie, the only other two Losers who had been in Robert's Deadlights, flies in his web, Bill had returned to the deepest part of the earth, far underneath Derry, and was only moments away from returning to the 27 year long rest. Though, it's not as though Robert was going to let him dream pretty dreams. The clown was very much capable of impregnating him in the Deadlights and he knew Robert was going to take advantage of that.

27 years from this very moment, Bill knew, he would give birth to well over a dozen Deadlights. Over a hundred, most likely, and strangely, the thought didn't bother him.

Everybody would be getting their happy endings, most surprisingly. Even Mike. He knew that all of the Losers would lead rich, fulfilling lives, as well as Patty Uris, Myra Kaspbrak, and even Audra. She wouldn't be a Denbrough, living the life she was meant to live with Bill, but she would still be happy.

Because of Bill, Eddie Kaspbrak would live to grow old with his wife, one day outliving her. He wouldn't forget his friends this time around either, always remembering the good times they had and the bad ones would make him a better man. Same with the rest of them.

Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom would be married within a few months time and shortly afterwards, they would be pregnant. Another curse broken.

Richie Tozier would never forget Eddie Kaspbrak, but he would move on and meet someone new. Someone he would spend the rest of his days with, through good times and bad times, always happy.

Mike Hanlon was an interesting one, Bill thought. Mike would eventualy become a well known writer of horror stories, those that push the boundaries of what people called comfortable. He would even write a book that would become his most well known story that would have a lot of mixed reviews. It would be the tale of a teenager, a young boy, taken by a monster from another world, and forced to bear the monster's children. It was a twisted tale. Some people liked it and others didn't and even though Mike said that there was truth in the story, critics would only see it as fantasy and horror, but it had a _damn_ good ending. It was going to be one of the best things Mike would ever write.

Funny enough, Audra herself would play an important role in the movie that would be made from the book. With Mike working on it and acting as the director. She too would lead a rich, happy, and fulfilling life because of that specific movie, which would be known as her best film. Her name would be listed with the stars, Bill knew, and he was honestly happy for her. Even more ironic, he thought, was that she would star in almost all of Mike's movies based on the horror tales he wrote, many of them about the monster of another world. Bill wouldn't be surprised if somewhere down the road, something came up between Audra and Mike and despite the awkwardness of that thought, he supposed he was happy for them too.

He would feel forever sorry for Patty Uris, because she would never really get over Stan's death and would always wonder what real creature could've done something like that to her husband, but there was happiness for her. Light in that darkness. She had lost Stan, but she would always remember him and the good times. And the child she was currently pregnant with would live the happy life Stan had lost, becoming something good in this dark world. Just like Ben and Beverly's children.

Children.

Bill stared at his swollen stomach and the hand resting on it. They would be born after the sleep, he knew. All of them. The ones he was currently pregnant with and the ones he would be impregnated with once he had fallen asleep, finding himself in Robert's Deadlights and caught in his web. They would be good, he promised himself and his babies. The many kicks he received, from every one of those little feet, said that they promised him the same thing.

His eyelids fluttered, feeling heavy and Robert's hand was steadily growing firmer, more pronounced, on his belly. Like a balloon, Bill could feel himself floating. Floating up into the sleep and into the Deadlights and floating away... of course, as he felt himself falling deeper and deeper into his sleep, he could feel Robert's presence coming closer and closer, especially as a monstrous appendage slithered up his ankle, curling around it and sliding up his leg and promising **_more_**.

\- _27 years later_ -

Another promise that the remaining Losers had made to each other was that they wouldn't lose ties with each other again, so that they wouldn't forget each other again. Oddly enough, they hadn't forgotten even after every one of them had left Derry, the scars on their hands never fading. Nor had the scar on Ben's belly. Every 27 days, Mike would call each of them simply to check up on them and see how they were doing and they would always call each other to see how everybody was doing. The answers were always the same. They were good. They were _happy_.

Ben and Beverly were the first to have children, another one of Pennywise's curses broken. Then Eddie and Myra. And Mike had heard that Stan was survived by his wife and his family, namely, his unborn child. Mike himself would meet a beautiful woman, an actress, by the name of Audra who would star in the films that were based on his books and even though he wasn't the best writer, like Bill would have been, they were well known for their good endings. The story about Bill's fate was the best thing he'd ever write, he knew, and that was how he had met Audra, the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. Even Richie had met someone not long after that last encounter with Pennywise, and they'd gotten married too.

They sat together now, the five of them, in Derry, another 27 years later, in the Barrens. How times had changed and yet, they seemed to stay the same. They had grown up and they had aged, but inside they were all still like kids.

Richie's glasses were thicker than 27 years ago, nearly all of his hair gone, something Eddie often teased him about. Eddie himself was even just starting to turn gray on the sides, wrinkles forming on his face but the scar from Bowers' knife was still clear as day.

Mike, unknown to the rest of the Losers, had decided that after the unforgettable message Bill had given him 27 years ago, along with his own set of everlasting scars, he would return to Derry every year to place flowers on Bowers' grave and the graves of the orderlies from Juniper Hill. He had understood, because of Bill, that even though Bowers had been a bully in his youth, he was really just another poor kid in Derry, abused by his father and given a dark push by Pennywise. It didn't make up for anything, but it was _something_. He doubted Bowers would really appreciate it, but then again, Bowers had nobody so maybe he wouldn't have minded at all. It was probably the only nice thing anybody had ever done for him.

Mike looked at the others, seeing how time had changed their physical appearances as well as their mentalities. Each of their eyes were older than their bodies, haunted by their memories that had forever changed them. As Pennywise had said before, old age would take them back to the weeds and that time was coming soon, they all knew. And they accepted that.

They were all so much older, time having turned their skin soft and wrinkly, the color fading from their hair to gray and eventually white. Beverly's ginger hair was just starting to fade into a pale shade and hints of white flecked the strands on her temples, and yet she was still so beautiful. Ben was already completely white in his hair and needed a cane to walk after an accident during the construction of a skyscraper, but he was still quite healthy and spry for his age. Mike himself was already turning gray, his skin wrinkly and old, with a bit of a hunch in his upper back from always being at his desk, bending down to scribble down a new idea and then type it away into his computer, and, of course, the arthritis in his fingers was a menace, but he never stopped writing.

"This is nice," Beverly said quietly, her voice just barely above a whisper as her lips turned upwards into a smile.

The sun was just starting to set on Derry, the wind flowing and tickling their cheeks.

"You think..." Eddie said quietly, his voice raspy. "You think he's... alright?"

For 27 years, they had remembered what they had done to Bill. What they had done and how they had thought it resulted in his untimely death and how it had resulted in the untimely deaths of his parents. For 27 years, they had remembered that Bill hadn't actually died, rather he was subjected to a fate much worse than death, and yet, even after all of that, after everything, he still managed to find some level of happiness in that dark, cold life he was forced into.

A life that would last until the end of eternity and perhaps even after, long past all of their own lives. For 27 years, they had remembered that Bill, a teenage boy, would mother over a dozen Deadlights. Or at least, four of the Losers would think that it was only just over a dozen. Mike knew better and even though he knew he should have told the others, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He also figured that Bill wouldn't have wanted them to know anyway, so he had kept his silence on that.

Bill was good, Mike knew. He had let them live happy lives they didn't deserve, and even Adrian Mellon and Don Hagarty had gotten to grow old together, living their lives to the fullest far away from Derry. As did Lisa Albrecht and Victoria Fuller.

"He's alright," Richie said, smiling softly.

"He's Bill, the best of all of us," Ben added.

"The biggest heart," Beverly said.

"The strongest," Mike said, smiling a smile that was both happy and sad as he thought about what today was, other than the anniversary of when they had faced Pennywise for the last time.

**********

Bill is smiling.

He had felt it, the creep of consciousness returning to him as his eyelids had fluttered, the boy blinking away sleep and tiredness, finding himself deep underneath Derry yet again. It had been upsetting to see, that after another 27 years, he was still in the body of a thirteen year old boy, but it was just another thing he knew he was going to get used to. For 27 years, he had dreamed of the Losers and even Patty, dreamed of their happy lives and he had seen how they had lived each day, moving on in the world.

Their children would do good in the world, and their children just the same. And the Losers all knew their times were coming soon, natural old age to take them back to the weeds, and they were accepting it, just like Stan so many years ago.

Bill still found it weird to think about. He was still physically only thirteen years old, but actually over seventy years old. Though, it was a small number, minuscule even, in comparison to Robert's age.

Dreaming in the Deadlights was also all too vivid, he thought. Realistic, even. Robert could manifest whatever he pleased in the Deadlights even as he slumbered and he had made good on his promise to keep Bill full. It was well over a dozen, nearly a hundred ,and Bill couldn't help but love each and every one of them as those little lights flickered and fluttered inside of him, tiny little feet kicking him, each one impatient and ready to meet him in the physical world at last.

And he was much bigger than he had been 27 years ago. Even now, he was so large that he looked to be nine months pregnant with quadruplets, and he knew this wouldn't be the end of it. More and more would come, more and more for him to meet and love. Every 27 years.

Of course, Georgie had made sure she would be the one to meet him first.

It had hurt, an indescribable, almost unbearable pain that Bill would be repeating, over and over again, even with the ability to shapeshift, and his body still held onto that agonizingly painful ache that was only just now starting to dull, but he thought it was well worth it as he stared at Georgie's little face, having given birth only moments ago, Roberta well on her way to being the second.

She was so tiny and so pink. She even reminded Bill of when he'd seen his baby brother for the very first time, only he had been cleaned and wrapped up in a blue blanket, screaming as loud as his tiny lungs would allow and he had been bald. Bill's daughter, his baby girl, had the head full of spiky, fluffy ginger hair that had hints of red to it. She was still covered in blood, Robert having only just manifested a little baby pink blanket for her, and she had yet to open her eyes. Bill could tell she was smiling as she held onto his finger with her tiny little hand, her little feet poking out of the blanket. She had her uncle's little nose.

Bill's back was pressed against Robert's chest. The clown himself was still injured, he could tell, and it would be another 27 years before he was capable of traveling between worlds without difficulty, and he would forever have that scar from the broken piece of fence. He had delivered Georgie himself, and from what Bill had seen, his face was still painted like a clown's and he was still forgoing most of his clown suit except the pants, almost as though it was an exhausting thing to manifest the suit or as though he was just lazy and content right now. Bill knew it was both as Robert rested his chin on the boy's shoulder.

Bill held onto Georgie, her little body pressed against his own chest, which had also grown and swelled, becoming fuller and fuller, as time had progressed and Robert kept him heavily pregnant. She had swatted him on the tender spot until Robert had torn open the chest of his jumpsuit and then her little lips had wrapped around his nipple instantly and she had started slurping hungrily. And Bill knew that little smile on her face was not only content and happy, but smug. She was just like her father.

"Little monster," Robert murmured, a pleased, loving, and content purr in his words.

It was because she had even dared to kick him after coming out, screaming as loud as her tiny but monstrous lungs would allow until she was handed over to Bill.

Robert's hand ran through Bill's sweaty and disheveled hair as Georgie blinked her eyes open, her little nose scrunching as they adjusted to the world around her, seeing it for the very first time. They were as blue as Pennywise's happy as ever. She made a cooing sound as she looked up at them.

The clown leaned his head forward, his cheek brushing against Bill's. The teen smiled a watery smile, his eyes stinging, as so many emotions spiraled like a whirlwind, a tornado, in his heart. He felt Robert's chest rumbling with a low growl. Georgie blinked, clearly surprised, as Robert kept growling lowly, his lips curling upwards into a wicked grin as his teeth sharpened. It was a taunt, Bill knew, but Georgie didn't.

Bill couldn't help the watery laugh that escaped him as Georgie's little chest rumbled, the baby pulling away from his chest, milk dripping from her lips and onto her chin as she started _growling back_. Robert's finger poked her nose and she actually lunged for it, mouth moving as though she was going to bite him even though she had no teeth.

Robert growled louder, the clown still grinning, and Georgie's eyes flickered from happy blue to ominous yellow, as though she was daring to _warn_ **him** as Bill felt another foot kicking at him. It was Roberta's turn, he knew as his insides squirmed uncomfortably, tightening as a contraction started.

Robert pretended to chomp down and Georgie lunged again, her entire little body wiggling in Bill's arms. Robert gave another low growl and she gave a small _roar_ , now gripping Bill's finger with her tiny little hand _protectively_. Bill could even imagine Georgie and even Roberta with the clown makeup on, maybe just like Robert's, which he thought was the cutest thing, and he had a feeling that once Georgie's teeth grew in, she'd be a biter.

Into the very void of the Macroverse, with real _love_ , with _true happiness_ , Bill Denbrough and Robert "Bob" Gray _**laughed**_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Sorry to those who wanted the Losers (Ben and Mike) to die lol  
> \- I left out the specific birth scene(s) for a reason  
> \- So, did my ending suck like Bill's endings? Lol  
> \- Thanks to all!

**Author's Note:**

> \- I called him Robert since I couldn't very well call him Bill, but I didn't like the name Bob for Bob Gray... and repeatedly using It got kind of annoying and Robert sounded better than Bob. Nothing against people with the name Bob, I just prefer Robert  
> \- How was it?


End file.
